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Title: Still Yours
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.
The first section of this installment of this little adventure is a cameo for Lorilei
STILL YOURS - Part 18a
(Irresistible Forces and Immovable Objects)
United Airlines Flight 223, Eastbound to Chicago....2:30 AM Thursday morning
Lori DuQuesne was howling mad. She'd been doing her job! She'd followed her principal out to that isolated area, found some convenient high ground, set up an observation post, and contacted Watcher Central. Ten minutes later she had company as the Watchers of the other principals involved had finally gotten off of their lazy duffs and trickled in. Ten minutes after *that* Joe Dawson himself had shown up. Dawson the Legend, Dawson the Heretic; who rarely took to the field these days unless his own principal, the infamous Duncan MacLeod, was up to something major. He'd complimented her on her choice of location and her skill in tailing her principal, and then he'd introduced her to her replacement!
"My replacement!" she hissed under her breath for the umpteenth time since they'd frog-marched her away from her observation post. "Damn it! That was *my* observation post....and *my* principal. They had no right!" she muttered. Joe had told her that she was too personally involved and that they couldn't have that. "Me? Personally involved?" she growled softly. "Well, isn't that just the pot calling the kettle black! And after I called him when Alex dropped Conterras too! Mr. 'Become Drinking Buddies With Your Principal' telling me that I'm personally involved? Just because I happen to confess to a colleague that I seem to be a little hormonal about my principal?"
She cursed quietly and settled back in her seat. She was tired, but still too angry to sleep. Dawson had delegated two gorillas to escort her back to the small nondescript apartment that the Watchers maintained for her use. They had similar apartments scattered about the city for Watcher use. They'd waited while she packed some clothes, then escorted her to the airport, and waited again until she'd boarded her flight. She was told that the rest of her belongings would be shipped to her at her new posting, in Bangor, Maine. Few Watchers ever put down roots for long. Home was wherever their principal went. But Immortals could be unpredictable in their habits, and the older they grew, the more restless and unpredictable they could be. She'd been in the shower a week ago when a phone call from Dawson had put her on a plane to New Mexico, to shadow her principal to his parents' funeral. Watching him as he watched the cortege had been the first time that she'd felt her professional detachment slip. It had slipped further the other night after she'd followed him, when he'd gone out to that bus terminal, to make a phone call. A hack of the phone company records had shown the Watchers the call's destination. Lori sighed. "Whoever she is, she must really be something...."
Lori frowned in thought and muttered, "I don't envy her one bit...and if I repeat that often enough I might actually make myself believe it." She knew that something big was stirring. The lower echelon people like her weren't getting anything other than rumors, but something was in the wind. There had been a lot of late night phone calls. Senior people were getting pulled into the Pacific Northwest from all across the continent. She didn't know it yet, but her new boss was, at that moment, on the red eye from Bangor to LAX, then on to Tacoma. Lori was a naturalized US citizen, but the DuQuesne family went back to the colonial days... and had extensive branches on both sides of the US/Canadian border. Were she to call her uncle Marc in Toronto, the man who'd roped her into this rather odd profession, she would discover that he was out of town on business...in Vancouver.
Lori's anger was fading somewhat. But only somewhat. Many of the younger generation of upcoming Watchers were chaffing under the 'no fraternization' rule. Some horrid examples of the recent past had poisoned attempts at reforming the Watcher traditions that were against it. However, everyone knew that Joe Dawson didn't regard the rules as sacred, and to the newest generation to take up this strange calling, he was something of an unwilling hero. During her training some extended bull sessions, outside the hearing of the older and wiser heads, revealed that she and her peers were of much the same mind. That Immortals were not that different from the general run of humanity. They were possessed of the same flaws and virtues. What set them apart was that great age magnified those flaws and virtues in a way that made some capable of magnificent things, while others were capable of unspeakable acts of depravity. Furthermore, they all agreed that there was something foolish about simply functioning as aloof chroniclers in a battle between good and evil. That the Immortals were not an accident. That they were here for a reason. And that, one day, the Watchers too would have to stand up and be counted.
She was drifting off to sleep now, lulled into drowsiness by the vibration of the plane's engines. It would be some days before the arrival of the Sunday paper in Bangor would make her exceedingly glad that she'd been standing somewhere else the Saturday night before, other than in 'her' observation post in the mountains outside of Seattle. Like somewhere on the other side of the continent.
The Kingsgate Estate.....5:15 AM
Britanicus was having one of his rare 'white' nights. Something was bothering him. He prowled the night time darkness of the estate quietly, frightening the the occasional nocturnal animal or sleeping bird as he sought to come to grips with the source of his disquiet. He may have been living in the waning days of the twentieth century now, but at heart he was still a man of his culture; a Roman. Therefore, his instinct was to see signs and
portents in anything unusual, including the rare bout of insomnia. The Gods were trying to alert him to something. A few millennia earlier he'd have sacrificed a sheep and tried to read the auguries from its entrails. Now he knew better, but deep down he still wanted the reassurance of trying.
Eventually he returned to his study and used the coffee pot behind the small bar to brew the strong Turkish blend of coffee that he preferred. There was no point in fighting for sleep that would not come. That was a lesson that he'd learned long ago. Sitting at his desk, sipping coffee and waiting for dawn, he laid out his files and notes for the coming campaign, hoping that a review might jar something loose. However, after nearly an hour of study, enlightenment was eluding him. He needed more information. Picking up his phone he dialed a number from memory. The fact that it wasn't yet sun-up in Seattle didn't bother him at all. He sat drumming his fingers impatiently and listened to the phone ring in Conterras' flop house room. After several minutes he hung up. The fact that Rafe wasn't answering didn't worry him that much. The man was a cur, and expendable. Britanicus would have preferred a private contractor for the entire intelligence gathering job, but that would have given outsiders too large a window into his life. For some things you needed a cur; like doing recon work that was too risky, and too obviously on point to be farmed out. Britanicus dialed Conterras' cell phone and waited. The local carrier in Seattle was unable to make the connection. So he tried the pager, and waited. Twenty minutes later he was still waiting.
Britanicus glanced at the clock. It read 6:30AM. Rising he walked over to the French doors leading from his study out onto the verandah. Opening the doors and stepping outside he looked East, towards the high Rockies. The sky was growing lighter, as the sun approached. Soon that golden disk would make its classic 'pop-up' appearance, the way it always seemed to in the mountains. Closing his eyes he listened, as he stood rocking on his feet slowly, and thinking. The night sounds were fading, and he could hear the first faint stirrings of daytime life. Britanicus was never one to dither. Truly, Conterras' absence didn't bother him overmuch, but the feeling in his belly bothered him more. Something wasn't right. His decision made he turned abruptly and walked back inside to his desk, grabbing the house phone he dialed. A moment later his majordomo answered, sounding wide awake, even though he'd almost certainly been asleep when the phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Joachim, get dressed, swing by the kitchen for something simple for breakfast, toast and juice will do. Bring it and your notes on the operation to my study in thirty minutes."
Joachim was already in his bathroom and had the shower running, while his master spoke. "Sire?" he queried, putting a wealth of meaning into that single word.
"I need you to shift some timetables," Britanicus told his subordinate. "We aren't waiting until tomorrow. We're going today; this afternoon if possible."
Joachim froze for a moment, but only for a moment. His master often appeared impulsive to those unfamiliar with his quirks, but in truth, he was not capricious. His choices were always well reasoned, if occasionally driven by a style of personal honor that had been extinct for the last few thousand years. "Yes Sire, thirty minutes." He waited until Britanicus had hung up, then he was in the shower at once. Because he knew that Britanicus would
begrudge even a minute's delay.
Exactly thirty minutes later Joachim, pushing a serving cart and juggling his notes, knocked on the study door.
"Come in Joachim," came the voice.
The majordomo tucked the thick folio and note pad under one arm, then he managed to open the door and nudge the cart into the room. Once inside he rolled it over and carefully transferred some of the contents to a small service table next to Britanicus' desk.
Britanicus dropped the file that he was perusing, stood up, and walked over to help himself. Joachim had taken it a bit further than just toast and juice. There was three kinds of fruit juice, as well as toast, scones, and bagels. And there was tea, though Britanicus was only an occasional tea drinker. He poured himself some orange juice, and helped himself to some toast, as well as some scones, and marmalade; then he gestured to indicate that Joachim was to help himself. Then he settled down and politely waited for his subordinate to serve himself before he began eating himself. As Joachim was finishing up Britanicus said, "Pull a chair up to the other side of the desk and eat there, that way we can work, talk, and eat at the same time." Pausing to smear a scone with marmalade he took a bite and chewed while Joachim situated himself. Once his Second was ready, he took a bite of toast and waited attentively for Britanicus to speak.
"Joachim, I have a gut feeling that something is going awry with the plan, so we're moving things up. I want you to push things ahead. We're going to hit them on Saturday instead of Sunday. Call the airlines and the hotels; I want all the bookings changed before noon today. I want us to be ready to move out as early as possible this afternoon or evening."
Joachim looked a little frustrated. "Sire, I had to call the airlines and hotels anyway to accommodate Malorte's men, but what about staging the men for the move. I can't arrange and rearrange the bookings *and* get them started on packing too. And this bunch will be slow about that to begin with."
Britanicus chuckled. "Don't worry about it. I'll put Andres on it. That will let him start earning his paycheck. He's had decades more experience at it anyway."
Joachim looked disgruntled, but he nodded.
Britanicus took in that look and nodded to himself; enough punishment. "Joachim, be sure to move your seat on the plane with the rest. Andres is going with us because I have something in mind for him. But I wouldn't leave you home, you're my Second."
Joachim felt a surge of relief that was so strong that it was almost palpable. He'd held off booking Malorte's crew their seats until today, because he was afraid to ask Britanicus whether to book seven seats, or six, because someone was staying home. He couldn't keep his feelings off of his face either. A failing that might get him killed one day, but today it pleased his boss to see his gratitude. "Yes Excellency; accommodations for eighteen." He already had the Cohort booked on three different flights to avoid attracting attention; this might mean a fourth flight. Or it might not.
"Coordinate with me on how it goes," Britanicus rumbled. "I realize that this is an imperfect world, and that we may not get everything that we want, but I expect you to do the best that you can. Meanwhile I'm going to stay here and keep going over this data, to try to run down whatever is bothering me, before it jumps out at us and gets one of us killed."
Joachim had finished his sketchy breakfast, and Britanicus nodded in dismissal. If he were still hungry, he'd have to hit the kitchen again. Joachim beat a hasty retreat, leaving his master, who was already so deeply engrossed in the material that he was studying that he was oblivious to his Second's departure.
Walking hastily down the hall Joachim considered. "The Radisson first," he thought. "They'll be quick and easy. Then the plane tickets." Changing bookings on short notice was going to cost a premium. If he got caught short, he might have to charter a plane to accommodate everyone. He picked up his pace. This promised to be a long day, and one that might not end until well after midnight.
The Evans Household.....9:30 AM
Isabel woke up in stages. First she was aware that she felt gritty, and tried to remember whether or not she'd washed up before bed last night. That stage lasted only a second, until she tried to move. The chorus of aches and pains woke up, and started nagging her to pay attention to them. She groaned and cursed vaguely under her breath. "If I'd known that waking up was going to hurt *this* much, I'd have stayed asleep!" Slowly her mental processes started to catch up. She hurt. Why did she hurt? Because of what she'd shared with....with...."Holy shit! He's alive!" she shouted out loud. She started to leap out of bed, and stopped with a groan as stiff sore muscles protested such abuse. "Screw it," she growled as she forced herself up and hobbled over to closet to grab a robe, followed by a detour to the dresser for some underwear. What she needed was a long hot soak in the tub to get the aches out. She had a hell of a lot to do today. She was going after her guy, come hell or high water. Looking at the clock she growled again with impatience. "I should have been up hours ago! Why the hell didn't Max wake me up?"
She walked stiff legged and hissing against the pain as she headed for the bathroom in the hall. She started to enter only to stop and back out at the vile smell, and a shout of "Isabel!"....but it was to late. The image of Kyle Valenti, on the toilet, clutching the sports section was indelibly burned into her mind. Furious she pounded on the door. "The bathroom has a fan, Valenti! Use it!" Then she stormed down the hall to her parents bedroom, and the master bath. She was still hurting, but her anger was having an amazing analgesic effect. Stomping up to the bathroom door she threw it open, surprising a towel clad Max in the act of shaving. For the second time in a week Max cut himself with his razor.
"Ouch!" He slapped a couple of glowing fingers to the wound. "Damn it Isabel, don't you ever knock?"
Isabel backed out, slamming the door. "How was I supposed to know?" she demanded through the door. "It's not like the thing has a 'no vacancy' sign. With that she spun on her heel and headed for the small bathroom next to the guest bedroom downstairs. She walked up to the door and reached for the doorknob, only to pause at the last minute. The door *was* closed. So she knocked and was immediately rewarded.
"It's occupied," came Michael's irritated voice. "Get lost!"
Isabel backed away, and stood there staring at the door in outright disbelief. This just wasn't happening. She was still asleep, and this was a nightmare. She pinched herself and jumped. Nope, she was wide awake, and pissed off. Turning back down the hallway she got to the stairway landing and shouted, "NOW HEAR THIS! There are three bathrooms in this house. THREE BATHROOMS! And if one of them isn't empty, reasonably clean, and completely odor free in the next ninety seconds, three people that I know are going to spend the next few days having very detailed and extremely intimate dreams involving Roseanne Barr and wading pools *full* of warm baby oil!"
She paused for breath and began to count, at the top of her lungs... "One!.....Two!.....Three!....."
Still Yours (HLDR,XO,CC,ADULT) [WIP]
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"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
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"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
-- Henry Jenkins
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Kzinti_Killer
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- Posts: 1019
- Joined: Fri Feb 22, 2002 6:44 am
- Location: High Reaches Weyr, Northern Pern
Title: Still Yours
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.
STILL YOURS - Part 18b
(Irresistible Forces and Immovable Objects)
Brody Davis' House.....same time
Jim Valenti walked up to the door, balancing a take out tray of coffee and breakfast sandwiches, and knocked. The door opened to reveal a disheveled looking, but very much awake, Brody Davis.
"Jim! I'm surprised that you aren't already at work this morning," he said.
Valenti laughed as Brody waved him inside. "Brody, I've already been in the saddle for three hours this morning; mostly soothing the frazzled nerves of jumpy citizens." He walked into the dining room and dropped the sandwiches on the table while offering coffee to his host, which Brody gratefully accepted. Jim wore a pained grin. "Did you happen to hear the sirens last night?"
Brody blew on his coffee and took a sip. Mocha cappuccino, perfect! "No, should I have? I haven't turned on the local news yet this morning."
Jim snorted. "Well the school is going to be closed for some ten days, or possibly even two weeks. It seems that the quake cracked a weld in the central boiler, which exploded last night, nuking the entire boiler room."
The odd sing-song way in which Jim gave the recitation told Brody everything that he needed to hear. "The kids, what happened? That's way above and beyond what I thought they had in mind."
Jim sighed as he pulled out his sausage, egg and cheese sandwich and unwrapped it. "That Skin assassin picked the time and place to make her move. That would be last night...in the boiler room."
Brody almost dropped his coffee and then recovered. Jim wouldn't be here, bearing breakfast, had anything irreversible happened to any of the kids. "Are the kids all right? What happened to the Skin....and who is 'she'?"
Jim sat down and gave a pained look, then he took a bite of his sandwich and chased it with a sip of black coffee. "There were injuries. Michael was the worst, with Kyle running a close second, but Max and Liz's 'doctor in the house' managed to take care of them nicely.... though I understand, from what they told me last night, that Michael and Kyle would likely have died under any care that human medicine could have given them." Jim took another bite of sandwich as Brody unrolled his own. Jim and Brody had shared breakfast this way often enough, sometimes with Amy and sometimes not, for Jim to know his preferences. Finishing the bite of sandwich Jim dug into the bag and hauled out the hash browns, handing one to Brody as he continued the story. "Anyway, the Skin got the drop on them all right, but she made the mistake of taunting my son about his girl and their child, then ignoring him," Jim said. "That was all it took to provoke Kyle into hauling out the newly minted alien powers and blowing her to smithereens.... unfortunately for the boiler, it was in the line of fire when he went a little overboard."
Brody winced. "Okay, I get the picture. So, the Skin...anyone that we know?"
Jim nodded. "Sarah Troy."
Brody had just taken a bite of sandwich, and he choked on it. Chewing hurriedly he slurped some coffee, in a fashion that would have caused his mother to whack him for poor manners, and cleared his throat. "Sarah Troy, Bob Troy's wife? I had dinner with them, not a week ago, when we signed the contract to renovate the electrical system at the museum! Sarah Troy is an alien?" Brody shuddered.
Jim looked grim. "Was an alien; very much past tense. And she apparently has been since last year. God only knows what happened to the real Sarah Troy. The Skin led Kyle to believe that she'd been killed and dumped somewhere on the open range in Lincoln County."
Brody's mouth twisted as he swallowed another bite of sandwich. "What are you going to do? That's a *lot* of territory, and every last inch of it is out of your jurisdiction."
Jim was about to take another bite of his sandwich when he stopped and put it down, looking thoughtful. "I'm not sure that I should do anything at all," he said. "It sucks. Sarah Troy didn't deserve what probably happened to her, and her family has a right to some closure. It really wouldn't be that hard to slip the Lincoln County sheriff a tip. I've known Tom Zapata since we were both deputies." He paused, and then plunged onward. "But I'm not sure that it's wise to call attention to it right now."
Brody nodded. "I agree. I despise myself for it, but I agree just the same. However callous it may seem, the lady can wait a while longer. We have to worry about the living who are closer to home."
Jim nodded. "Which brings me to my proposal. I want to borrow your RV for a few days."
Brody nodded. "Okay, that can be arranged. Thinking of a trip north?"
"Isabel is going, and the kids won't let her go alone," Jim said with a note of grimness. "I'm trying to manage conflicting issues here. I need a plausible excuse that will let the kids leave town for a few days, so I thought that I'd sponsor a little tension relieving road trip. They can't just vanish for three or four days, the whole town would go ballistic. I'd have to issue an all points. Jeff and Nancy Parker would certainly file a missing persons on Liz, and very probably charges against Max. I see no end of bad coming if we don't get involved and steer things in the right direction. And, in any event, I also need an excuse to be along for whatever ride there is, to keep things under control. They may have super powers, but they're still kids."
Brody looked pensive for a moment, the he said, "If that's the case, then I'd better be the one to handle the road trip because you, my good friend, are still too closely linked to Max and Isabel Evans in the minds of movers and shakers in this town." Valenti looked ready to argue, but Brody forestalled him. "Everyone knows that you and Amy DeLuca are an item. I think that this is the perfect time for you to make a test run at family togetherness.
You and Amy take Kyle and Maria on a road trip, camping or fishing. That makes more sense for you... and them. Meanwhile, I and my motor home will host Max, Isabel, Michael, and Liz." He let the proposal sink in for a moment and then he said, "Two vehicles will make more sense when we start getting close to where we're going. If need be, it lets us split up for a flanking approach. Besides, your SUV will be a hell of a lot less conspicuous than my cruise ship on wheels." Brody grinned. "And, on top of that , it would let you hand off responsibility to your senior deputy for a few days, and another dose of Roswell with Hanson in charge couldn't help, but reinforce your position here."
Jim grinned and spoke in honest admiration. "Remind me never to play chess or poker with you, Davis. You're as devious as a snake."
"Thank you," Brody replied with a smirk. "I take it that we have a plan?"
Jim nodded. "Pending everyone else getting their fingerprints on it, yes. What will your reason be for the road trip?"
Brody shrugged. "Investigating some fictitious UFO sighting or something; taking Max along is natural. To Jeff and Nancy, taking Michael and Liz is just a courtesy. They know that I know the kids. And no one needs to know about Isabel being along, except for Philip and Diane."
Jim grinned. "Did I say devious? Devious doesn't begin to cover it."
Brody grinned back at him. "I said thank you once already. Was there anything else? If not I'd like to get a shower."
"Nothing other than to say that, whatever it is that we do, we'd better get it together fast." Valenti's mouth twisted wryly. "Because, if I know Miss Evans, she's already packing; we can only stall her until early afternoon, at the latest."
Brody nodded in agreement. "I'll call Max, and let him handle the arrangements at their end. That includes getting Isabel to stand down until we're *all* ready to go."
Jim stood up and reached for his hat. "All right then, I'll talk to Amy. Now, I'd better get back to the station and see what Hanson has had time to screw up."
Brody saw Jim to the door, then called his accountant and instructed him to make a large anonymous donation 'from a local businessman' to help rebuild the boiler room at West Roswell, with a bonus clause to the contractor for priority tasking. What good was conspicuous wealth if you didn't do something with it? Then he dialed the Evans house, as his mind was already moving three chores ahead of what he was already doing. The phone rang once, then it was picked up.
"Hello?" came Max's voice, sounding distracted.
Brody smiled. "Good morning Max, my royal...er, I mean my loyal employee.....how would you like the next few days off, with pay?"
Bear Run Asylum..........10:30AM
Alex awoke with considerably more than a modest headache, and a case of cotton mouth. He moaned softly and tried to will himself back to sleep. It didn't work worth a damn. He'd been drunk only once before in his life and this felt like 'the morning after'. Lying there, he tried to recall things. His dreams had been weird, and disjointed. He thought that he remembered Isabel in them, but he'd never seen her dressed... so.... so.... come hither. He didn't know what to make of that. On the one hand he'd never seen her like that, in or out of his dreams, so did that mean that it was really her, or simply that his libido was finally catching up with his id? He shuddered and prayed that she hadn't been there last night. Because, either way that you played it, he was in trouble. If she'd been there and seen herself like that...or if that had actually been her...he was a dead man. Trying to moisten his mouth he rolled over, and wished he hadn't, then rolled back and wished that he hadn't done *that* either. He groaned. "I only had a sip. I'm a one shot drunk. Damn, I'm worse than..." No sooner had the words left his mouth than the whole chain of reasoning crackled through his mind to its inescapable conclusion.
"I didn't used to be an easy drunk. Now I am. Only one sort of person that I've ever known was that sort of drunk; an alien." He sat up sharply, and half screamed as his head tried to given birth to a stampeding rhinoceros. "Shit!" was the nicest thing he had to say as he started a full tour of the lower end of his vocabulary. His litany of cursing broke off as he heard a chuckle and looked up to see Methos standing in the doorway of the room. Glaring at him Alex growled, "This is all your fault; you and your damned whiskey."
Methos shook his head, still chuckling. "I didn't see anyone twisting your arm to take a drink my boy, so you have no one to blame, but yourself. And only *you* knew your tolerance. Here," he said, as he held out a bottle of water. "You need to rehydrate I think, though why that should be I have no idea. Alcohol dries you out inside, but you couldn't have drunk enough to dry out a fly, let alone a man your size."
Alex took the bottle, drained half of it in a couple of gulps, and began to feel a little better. He looked at Methos and smiled wryly. "I may not be a fly, but I'm not sure that the other label applies anymore either."
Methos blinked. Morning after blues not withstanding, Alex must be doing reasonably okay if he could manage to be cryptic this early in the morning.
Alex took in Methos' look of bemused curiosity and laughed, even though it still hurt to do so. He cut it short and said, "What's happening this morning, any chance of getting something to eat?"
"Well, Richie's asleep in another room, since he took the late watch last night. Cass and Amanda still hate the sanitary facilities. Yes, I think that we can get you something to eat. And most importantly Duncan will be glad to see you on your feet so that the ladies will stop chewing on him about poisoning you."
Alex hauled himself onto unsteady feet, took another swig of water, and began hunting for his clothes. "I don't care what sort of johns we have; I'm going to need one shortly. And if the ladies are still reaming Duncan about this, what about you? If I recall what I heard right, it was your booze that bit me. *And* by the way, just how did you happen to be so 'johnny of the spot' when I rose from the dead up here. Surely you haven't been waiting
around for it."
Methos shrugged. "After five thousand years you get a sense of perspective on things. Cass and Amanda will get over it...... until the next time we do something to piss them off. It's in the nature of relations between the sexes. As for me being here, I like you son, but not enough to play nursemaid. I was on my way up to relieve Duncan on the roof watch, when I heard you singing your morning song. That's where he's been hiding out all morning to escape the rough edge of Amanda's tongue. Speaking of rough tongues, where did you learn to curse in Latin?"
Alex had his clothes on and was tying his shoes. "It's the geek factor. When I was around ten years old I found out that there were some seriously cool things written in Latin and Classical Greek that lose their flavor when you translate them into English, so I twisted my mom's arm into getting me into some classes at the local community college. They weren't very *good* classes, but they gave me a place to start. After that I worked on it myself
with books and mail order courses. It really helped when I got into French and Spanish in high school." Then he went on in Latin. "I'd say that I've done pretty well, wouldn't you?"
Methos blinked and answered. "Very well indeed; I wonder how we missed this little fact all these months?"
Alex grinned as he stood up. "It couldn't possibly be because I don't tell you guys *everything*, could it?"
Methos slipped back into English. "Touché, young Jedi. Now that you're dressed, let’s get Duncan off the roof and show the womenfolk that you aren't dead, while we get you some breakfast."
Alex was chuckling softly as they exited the room, and he marveled at the fact that his spirits could be so high even though he still felt only half human. "Especially when you consider the fact that I might actually *be* only half human now," he thought wryly.
He was mastering the quintessential lesson that all the long-lived needed to take to themselves... if they wanted to live long. Live each day for itself, and joyously embracing whatever good times there are, because you never know how long they'll last. If you had a headache, at least it meant that you still had a head.
The Evans Household........11:00AM
The men had retreated to the living room, out of range of the wrath of Isabel. She was currently ensconced in the master bathroom, and she was giving no signs of emerging any time soon; which, from their point of view, was a good thing. She hadn't had to wait *that* much longer than the demanded ninety seconds to get the bathroom of her choice, and Max had been out of the master bath in record time, but still.... none of them would sleep soundly for a few nights. Not so much because they thought that Isabel would torment them, as because of the disturbing the visual image that she'd provided them with.
Max had just gotten off the phone with Jim Valenti. Brody's earlier call had set things in motion. Now a round robin of phone calls and telepathic conversations was getting things organized. The only two sticking points were Liz's parents, and Isabel.
Kyle was idly channel surfing the late morning TV. Finding nothing, but boring crap, he flipped to ESPN and settled back to watch the sports news. Turning to Max he said, "If the plan is for a 'family togetherness' trip, I'd better rejoin Dad at home to get my stuff together, otherwise he'll leave behind something that I need. And besides, I really don't think that I want to be anywhere around when you start trying to prevent Isabel from leaving before we're ready to go too."
Michael nodded. "It'll be bad enough sharing a motor home with her for most of a week, with her in the mood that she'll be in. I want to be nowhere around when you try to persuade her that she can't leave yet. You'd have to physically restrain her, and if you do that, baby oil wrestling with Roseanne in your dreams will be the least of your worries."
Max nodded as he half-heartedly watched a replay from an old Wings/Bruins game, then he looked at Michael. "It doesn't matter what she does or doesn't do to me, she can't leave until she has back-up. That's us, and that's final. If you two want to bail, that's fine. But before you do, I need to go over to the Crashdown and back Liz up while she talks to her folks about our upcoming 'field trip'. Brody will be watching for our Blazer, and he'll join us there. I want you guys to stay here and mind the store until I get back." They both looked like they were ready to protest, but Max interrupted them. "Bear in mind guys, I'm giving *you* the easy part. Liz has my car, and I'll have Mom and Dad's Chevy. Since Isabel never saw any serious urgency about acquiring a car of her own, that leaves her without wheels. She'll be going nowhere. All you have to do is keep her from tearing the house down... or calling a cab, before I can get back."
Kyle snorted. "That's easier said than done El Presidente. Offhand, I'd rather be back in the boiler room with La Femme Skin than I would be in this house with your sister when she's seriously pissed off."
"Nonsense," said Max. "She wouldn't do anything to either one of you that we couldn't heal."
Kyle nodded. "That's what I'm afraid of. Within those limits, she can *do* an awful lot."
Michael chuckled. "Remember Valenti...'time of your life'."
"Now is *not* the time to drag that out, Guerin," Kyle said as his face twisted. "That isn't what I was talking about anyway. And, covering Max's butt with Isabel, our lives are in danger of being shorter than they should be!"
Michael shrugged. "You knew the job was dangerous when you took it Kemo Sabe." Michael got a vacant look then snapped out of it. "I just heard from Maria. Everything is a go at her end. She's off for the next few days, and Amy is leaving the shop in the hands of her clerks, God help her." He looked at Max. "Go on Max, take care of business. We've got your back. Just don't take too long about it."
With that they heard the door to the master bathroom swing open, so Max wasted no time snagging the keys to the SUV and making a hasty withdrawal. As he started the Blazer and hastily backed it out, he just hoped that the house would still be standing when he got back. Then he headed towards the Crashdown, and the job at hand. If they could just catch Liz's mom *first*.....
The Kingsgate Estate......11:30AM
Britanicus had been on the phone with the detective agency again. He was arranging with them to check on Rafe's room at the flophouse, to see if he'd been there. Not that Britanicus cared a damn for his subordinate's ultimate fate, but he wanted to know what he was walking into. If Conterras had gotten himself killed, then the prey might have been spooked and bolted, and he wasn't in the mood for an extended pursuit. He was just concluding the call when the internal house line buzzed, indicating that Joachim needed to talk to him. He hit the blinking button and answered, "Yes, Joachim?"
"Sire, the arrangements are complete," the majordomo said. "The airlines were a bit sticky, but I waved more money at them. That gave us the time upgrades and seats that we needed."
"When is our flight?" Britanicus asked.
"Flights Sire, plural. It was the only way," replied Joachim.
"Fine, flights. When?" Musa responded curtly.
"There will be three, commuter jets going in staggered order. The first leaves Vancouver International for Sea-Tac at 1:30 PM, the second an hour and a half later, and a third two hours after the second," Joachim ticked them off from the list in front of him. "I'm printing out our tickets here, so everyone will be responsible for their own."
Britanicus pursed his lips. "How did you book the flights? Who rides what plane?" What he meant was...'did you put all the leadership together? Or spread them out?'
Anticipating the implied question, Joachim smiled and said, "I spread us out. I'll be on the first flight, you will be on the second, and Malorte will be on the third. We don't want any of the rank and file wandering around a major airport without a keeper."
Britanicus chuckled. Men like those that he recruited into the Cohort, when left to their own devices, were bound to get into trouble. It came as naturally to their sort as breathing. Joachim recognized that, and he should have know better than to micro-manage his Second's work. "Good. I don't care what the men do after the operation, assuming that they live through it. But we don't need them to advertise our presence by following their inclinations to raise hell."
Joachim nodded. "If you don't mind Sire, once the tickets finish printing, I'm going to grab my gear and marshal my contingent. I only have two hours... less now... to be aboard that plane. I've already summoned a limousine from a private service, rather than the airport. Yours and Malorte's transportation has been arranged and will be arriving at the appropriate times. I'll be by your study shortly with two file folders, one for you and one for Malorte, containing your tickets and itinerary. I shouldn't be longer than fifteen minutes."
Britanicus nodded to himself. "Very well, I'll see you in fifteen minutes." Hanging up the phone Britanicus took one last look at the data on his desk, then shrugged. The die would be cast shortly. He would simply call the detective agency back and give them his cellular phone number, so that they could reach him on the move. The time for caution was past. Turning he walked over to stand gazing out the French doors again, rocking gently on his feet as he waited for Joachim to arrive. His eyes were on the here and now, but his mind far in the past. It was reliving the day that the horns had sounded, and Gaius Julius had led his legion across the Rubicon and into an unknown future. There was something to be said for simply casting the die, and then relying on your own strength of arms to make something of the result. Musa smiled softly. These were the times that he lived for. Everything else was just doing what he had to do to get from the last adventure to the next one.
When Joachim arrived fifteen minutes later, he was still rocking on his feet and smiling. He was going to war. He was content.
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.
STILL YOURS - Part 18b
(Irresistible Forces and Immovable Objects)
Brody Davis' House.....same time
Jim Valenti walked up to the door, balancing a take out tray of coffee and breakfast sandwiches, and knocked. The door opened to reveal a disheveled looking, but very much awake, Brody Davis.
"Jim! I'm surprised that you aren't already at work this morning," he said.
Valenti laughed as Brody waved him inside. "Brody, I've already been in the saddle for three hours this morning; mostly soothing the frazzled nerves of jumpy citizens." He walked into the dining room and dropped the sandwiches on the table while offering coffee to his host, which Brody gratefully accepted. Jim wore a pained grin. "Did you happen to hear the sirens last night?"
Brody blew on his coffee and took a sip. Mocha cappuccino, perfect! "No, should I have? I haven't turned on the local news yet this morning."
Jim snorted. "Well the school is going to be closed for some ten days, or possibly even two weeks. It seems that the quake cracked a weld in the central boiler, which exploded last night, nuking the entire boiler room."
The odd sing-song way in which Jim gave the recitation told Brody everything that he needed to hear. "The kids, what happened? That's way above and beyond what I thought they had in mind."
Jim sighed as he pulled out his sausage, egg and cheese sandwich and unwrapped it. "That Skin assassin picked the time and place to make her move. That would be last night...in the boiler room."
Brody almost dropped his coffee and then recovered. Jim wouldn't be here, bearing breakfast, had anything irreversible happened to any of the kids. "Are the kids all right? What happened to the Skin....and who is 'she'?"
Jim sat down and gave a pained look, then he took a bite of his sandwich and chased it with a sip of black coffee. "There were injuries. Michael was the worst, with Kyle running a close second, but Max and Liz's 'doctor in the house' managed to take care of them nicely.... though I understand, from what they told me last night, that Michael and Kyle would likely have died under any care that human medicine could have given them." Jim took another bite of sandwich as Brody unrolled his own. Jim and Brody had shared breakfast this way often enough, sometimes with Amy and sometimes not, for Jim to know his preferences. Finishing the bite of sandwich Jim dug into the bag and hauled out the hash browns, handing one to Brody as he continued the story. "Anyway, the Skin got the drop on them all right, but she made the mistake of taunting my son about his girl and their child, then ignoring him," Jim said. "That was all it took to provoke Kyle into hauling out the newly minted alien powers and blowing her to smithereens.... unfortunately for the boiler, it was in the line of fire when he went a little overboard."
Brody winced. "Okay, I get the picture. So, the Skin...anyone that we know?"
Jim nodded. "Sarah Troy."
Brody had just taken a bite of sandwich, and he choked on it. Chewing hurriedly he slurped some coffee, in a fashion that would have caused his mother to whack him for poor manners, and cleared his throat. "Sarah Troy, Bob Troy's wife? I had dinner with them, not a week ago, when we signed the contract to renovate the electrical system at the museum! Sarah Troy is an alien?" Brody shuddered.
Jim looked grim. "Was an alien; very much past tense. And she apparently has been since last year. God only knows what happened to the real Sarah Troy. The Skin led Kyle to believe that she'd been killed and dumped somewhere on the open range in Lincoln County."
Brody's mouth twisted as he swallowed another bite of sandwich. "What are you going to do? That's a *lot* of territory, and every last inch of it is out of your jurisdiction."
Jim was about to take another bite of his sandwich when he stopped and put it down, looking thoughtful. "I'm not sure that I should do anything at all," he said. "It sucks. Sarah Troy didn't deserve what probably happened to her, and her family has a right to some closure. It really wouldn't be that hard to slip the Lincoln County sheriff a tip. I've known Tom Zapata since we were both deputies." He paused, and then plunged onward. "But I'm not sure that it's wise to call attention to it right now."
Brody nodded. "I agree. I despise myself for it, but I agree just the same. However callous it may seem, the lady can wait a while longer. We have to worry about the living who are closer to home."
Jim nodded. "Which brings me to my proposal. I want to borrow your RV for a few days."
Brody nodded. "Okay, that can be arranged. Thinking of a trip north?"
"Isabel is going, and the kids won't let her go alone," Jim said with a note of grimness. "I'm trying to manage conflicting issues here. I need a plausible excuse that will let the kids leave town for a few days, so I thought that I'd sponsor a little tension relieving road trip. They can't just vanish for three or four days, the whole town would go ballistic. I'd have to issue an all points. Jeff and Nancy Parker would certainly file a missing persons on Liz, and very probably charges against Max. I see no end of bad coming if we don't get involved and steer things in the right direction. And, in any event, I also need an excuse to be along for whatever ride there is, to keep things under control. They may have super powers, but they're still kids."
Brody looked pensive for a moment, the he said, "If that's the case, then I'd better be the one to handle the road trip because you, my good friend, are still too closely linked to Max and Isabel Evans in the minds of movers and shakers in this town." Valenti looked ready to argue, but Brody forestalled him. "Everyone knows that you and Amy DeLuca are an item. I think that this is the perfect time for you to make a test run at family togetherness.
You and Amy take Kyle and Maria on a road trip, camping or fishing. That makes more sense for you... and them. Meanwhile, I and my motor home will host Max, Isabel, Michael, and Liz." He let the proposal sink in for a moment and then he said, "Two vehicles will make more sense when we start getting close to where we're going. If need be, it lets us split up for a flanking approach. Besides, your SUV will be a hell of a lot less conspicuous than my cruise ship on wheels." Brody grinned. "And, on top of that , it would let you hand off responsibility to your senior deputy for a few days, and another dose of Roswell with Hanson in charge couldn't help, but reinforce your position here."
Jim grinned and spoke in honest admiration. "Remind me never to play chess or poker with you, Davis. You're as devious as a snake."
"Thank you," Brody replied with a smirk. "I take it that we have a plan?"
Jim nodded. "Pending everyone else getting their fingerprints on it, yes. What will your reason be for the road trip?"
Brody shrugged. "Investigating some fictitious UFO sighting or something; taking Max along is natural. To Jeff and Nancy, taking Michael and Liz is just a courtesy. They know that I know the kids. And no one needs to know about Isabel being along, except for Philip and Diane."
Jim grinned. "Did I say devious? Devious doesn't begin to cover it."
Brody grinned back at him. "I said thank you once already. Was there anything else? If not I'd like to get a shower."
"Nothing other than to say that, whatever it is that we do, we'd better get it together fast." Valenti's mouth twisted wryly. "Because, if I know Miss Evans, she's already packing; we can only stall her until early afternoon, at the latest."
Brody nodded in agreement. "I'll call Max, and let him handle the arrangements at their end. That includes getting Isabel to stand down until we're *all* ready to go."
Jim stood up and reached for his hat. "All right then, I'll talk to Amy. Now, I'd better get back to the station and see what Hanson has had time to screw up."
Brody saw Jim to the door, then called his accountant and instructed him to make a large anonymous donation 'from a local businessman' to help rebuild the boiler room at West Roswell, with a bonus clause to the contractor for priority tasking. What good was conspicuous wealth if you didn't do something with it? Then he dialed the Evans house, as his mind was already moving three chores ahead of what he was already doing. The phone rang once, then it was picked up.
"Hello?" came Max's voice, sounding distracted.
Brody smiled. "Good morning Max, my royal...er, I mean my loyal employee.....how would you like the next few days off, with pay?"
Bear Run Asylum..........10:30AM
Alex awoke with considerably more than a modest headache, and a case of cotton mouth. He moaned softly and tried to will himself back to sleep. It didn't work worth a damn. He'd been drunk only once before in his life and this felt like 'the morning after'. Lying there, he tried to recall things. His dreams had been weird, and disjointed. He thought that he remembered Isabel in them, but he'd never seen her dressed... so.... so.... come hither. He didn't know what to make of that. On the one hand he'd never seen her like that, in or out of his dreams, so did that mean that it was really her, or simply that his libido was finally catching up with his id? He shuddered and prayed that she hadn't been there last night. Because, either way that you played it, he was in trouble. If she'd been there and seen herself like that...or if that had actually been her...he was a dead man. Trying to moisten his mouth he rolled over, and wished he hadn't, then rolled back and wished that he hadn't done *that* either. He groaned. "I only had a sip. I'm a one shot drunk. Damn, I'm worse than..." No sooner had the words left his mouth than the whole chain of reasoning crackled through his mind to its inescapable conclusion.
"I didn't used to be an easy drunk. Now I am. Only one sort of person that I've ever known was that sort of drunk; an alien." He sat up sharply, and half screamed as his head tried to given birth to a stampeding rhinoceros. "Shit!" was the nicest thing he had to say as he started a full tour of the lower end of his vocabulary. His litany of cursing broke off as he heard a chuckle and looked up to see Methos standing in the doorway of the room. Glaring at him Alex growled, "This is all your fault; you and your damned whiskey."
Methos shook his head, still chuckling. "I didn't see anyone twisting your arm to take a drink my boy, so you have no one to blame, but yourself. And only *you* knew your tolerance. Here," he said, as he held out a bottle of water. "You need to rehydrate I think, though why that should be I have no idea. Alcohol dries you out inside, but you couldn't have drunk enough to dry out a fly, let alone a man your size."
Alex took the bottle, drained half of it in a couple of gulps, and began to feel a little better. He looked at Methos and smiled wryly. "I may not be a fly, but I'm not sure that the other label applies anymore either."
Methos blinked. Morning after blues not withstanding, Alex must be doing reasonably okay if he could manage to be cryptic this early in the morning.
Alex took in Methos' look of bemused curiosity and laughed, even though it still hurt to do so. He cut it short and said, "What's happening this morning, any chance of getting something to eat?"
"Well, Richie's asleep in another room, since he took the late watch last night. Cass and Amanda still hate the sanitary facilities. Yes, I think that we can get you something to eat. And most importantly Duncan will be glad to see you on your feet so that the ladies will stop chewing on him about poisoning you."
Alex hauled himself onto unsteady feet, took another swig of water, and began hunting for his clothes. "I don't care what sort of johns we have; I'm going to need one shortly. And if the ladies are still reaming Duncan about this, what about you? If I recall what I heard right, it was your booze that bit me. *And* by the way, just how did you happen to be so 'johnny of the spot' when I rose from the dead up here. Surely you haven't been waiting
around for it."
Methos shrugged. "After five thousand years you get a sense of perspective on things. Cass and Amanda will get over it...... until the next time we do something to piss them off. It's in the nature of relations between the sexes. As for me being here, I like you son, but not enough to play nursemaid. I was on my way up to relieve Duncan on the roof watch, when I heard you singing your morning song. That's where he's been hiding out all morning to escape the rough edge of Amanda's tongue. Speaking of rough tongues, where did you learn to curse in Latin?"
Alex had his clothes on and was tying his shoes. "It's the geek factor. When I was around ten years old I found out that there were some seriously cool things written in Latin and Classical Greek that lose their flavor when you translate them into English, so I twisted my mom's arm into getting me into some classes at the local community college. They weren't very *good* classes, but they gave me a place to start. After that I worked on it myself
with books and mail order courses. It really helped when I got into French and Spanish in high school." Then he went on in Latin. "I'd say that I've done pretty well, wouldn't you?"
Methos blinked and answered. "Very well indeed; I wonder how we missed this little fact all these months?"
Alex grinned as he stood up. "It couldn't possibly be because I don't tell you guys *everything*, could it?"
Methos slipped back into English. "Touché, young Jedi. Now that you're dressed, let’s get Duncan off the roof and show the womenfolk that you aren't dead, while we get you some breakfast."
Alex was chuckling softly as they exited the room, and he marveled at the fact that his spirits could be so high even though he still felt only half human. "Especially when you consider the fact that I might actually *be* only half human now," he thought wryly.
He was mastering the quintessential lesson that all the long-lived needed to take to themselves... if they wanted to live long. Live each day for itself, and joyously embracing whatever good times there are, because you never know how long they'll last. If you had a headache, at least it meant that you still had a head.
The Evans Household........11:00AM
The men had retreated to the living room, out of range of the wrath of Isabel. She was currently ensconced in the master bathroom, and she was giving no signs of emerging any time soon; which, from their point of view, was a good thing. She hadn't had to wait *that* much longer than the demanded ninety seconds to get the bathroom of her choice, and Max had been out of the master bath in record time, but still.... none of them would sleep soundly for a few nights. Not so much because they thought that Isabel would torment them, as because of the disturbing the visual image that she'd provided them with.
Max had just gotten off the phone with Jim Valenti. Brody's earlier call had set things in motion. Now a round robin of phone calls and telepathic conversations was getting things organized. The only two sticking points were Liz's parents, and Isabel.
Kyle was idly channel surfing the late morning TV. Finding nothing, but boring crap, he flipped to ESPN and settled back to watch the sports news. Turning to Max he said, "If the plan is for a 'family togetherness' trip, I'd better rejoin Dad at home to get my stuff together, otherwise he'll leave behind something that I need. And besides, I really don't think that I want to be anywhere around when you start trying to prevent Isabel from leaving before we're ready to go too."
Michael nodded. "It'll be bad enough sharing a motor home with her for most of a week, with her in the mood that she'll be in. I want to be nowhere around when you try to persuade her that she can't leave yet. You'd have to physically restrain her, and if you do that, baby oil wrestling with Roseanne in your dreams will be the least of your worries."
Max nodded as he half-heartedly watched a replay from an old Wings/Bruins game, then he looked at Michael. "It doesn't matter what she does or doesn't do to me, she can't leave until she has back-up. That's us, and that's final. If you two want to bail, that's fine. But before you do, I need to go over to the Crashdown and back Liz up while she talks to her folks about our upcoming 'field trip'. Brody will be watching for our Blazer, and he'll join us there. I want you guys to stay here and mind the store until I get back." They both looked like they were ready to protest, but Max interrupted them. "Bear in mind guys, I'm giving *you* the easy part. Liz has my car, and I'll have Mom and Dad's Chevy. Since Isabel never saw any serious urgency about acquiring a car of her own, that leaves her without wheels. She'll be going nowhere. All you have to do is keep her from tearing the house down... or calling a cab, before I can get back."
Kyle snorted. "That's easier said than done El Presidente. Offhand, I'd rather be back in the boiler room with La Femme Skin than I would be in this house with your sister when she's seriously pissed off."
"Nonsense," said Max. "She wouldn't do anything to either one of you that we couldn't heal."
Kyle nodded. "That's what I'm afraid of. Within those limits, she can *do* an awful lot."
Michael chuckled. "Remember Valenti...'time of your life'."
"Now is *not* the time to drag that out, Guerin," Kyle said as his face twisted. "That isn't what I was talking about anyway. And, covering Max's butt with Isabel, our lives are in danger of being shorter than they should be!"
Michael shrugged. "You knew the job was dangerous when you took it Kemo Sabe." Michael got a vacant look then snapped out of it. "I just heard from Maria. Everything is a go at her end. She's off for the next few days, and Amy is leaving the shop in the hands of her clerks, God help her." He looked at Max. "Go on Max, take care of business. We've got your back. Just don't take too long about it."
With that they heard the door to the master bathroom swing open, so Max wasted no time snagging the keys to the SUV and making a hasty withdrawal. As he started the Blazer and hastily backed it out, he just hoped that the house would still be standing when he got back. Then he headed towards the Crashdown, and the job at hand. If they could just catch Liz's mom *first*.....
The Kingsgate Estate......11:30AM
Britanicus had been on the phone with the detective agency again. He was arranging with them to check on Rafe's room at the flophouse, to see if he'd been there. Not that Britanicus cared a damn for his subordinate's ultimate fate, but he wanted to know what he was walking into. If Conterras had gotten himself killed, then the prey might have been spooked and bolted, and he wasn't in the mood for an extended pursuit. He was just concluding the call when the internal house line buzzed, indicating that Joachim needed to talk to him. He hit the blinking button and answered, "Yes, Joachim?"
"Sire, the arrangements are complete," the majordomo said. "The airlines were a bit sticky, but I waved more money at them. That gave us the time upgrades and seats that we needed."
"When is our flight?" Britanicus asked.
"Flights Sire, plural. It was the only way," replied Joachim.
"Fine, flights. When?" Musa responded curtly.
"There will be three, commuter jets going in staggered order. The first leaves Vancouver International for Sea-Tac at 1:30 PM, the second an hour and a half later, and a third two hours after the second," Joachim ticked them off from the list in front of him. "I'm printing out our tickets here, so everyone will be responsible for their own."
Britanicus pursed his lips. "How did you book the flights? Who rides what plane?" What he meant was...'did you put all the leadership together? Or spread them out?'
Anticipating the implied question, Joachim smiled and said, "I spread us out. I'll be on the first flight, you will be on the second, and Malorte will be on the third. We don't want any of the rank and file wandering around a major airport without a keeper."
Britanicus chuckled. Men like those that he recruited into the Cohort, when left to their own devices, were bound to get into trouble. It came as naturally to their sort as breathing. Joachim recognized that, and he should have know better than to micro-manage his Second's work. "Good. I don't care what the men do after the operation, assuming that they live through it. But we don't need them to advertise our presence by following their inclinations to raise hell."
Joachim nodded. "If you don't mind Sire, once the tickets finish printing, I'm going to grab my gear and marshal my contingent. I only have two hours... less now... to be aboard that plane. I've already summoned a limousine from a private service, rather than the airport. Yours and Malorte's transportation has been arranged and will be arriving at the appropriate times. I'll be by your study shortly with two file folders, one for you and one for Malorte, containing your tickets and itinerary. I shouldn't be longer than fifteen minutes."
Britanicus nodded to himself. "Very well, I'll see you in fifteen minutes." Hanging up the phone Britanicus took one last look at the data on his desk, then shrugged. The die would be cast shortly. He would simply call the detective agency back and give them his cellular phone number, so that they could reach him on the move. The time for caution was past. Turning he walked over to stand gazing out the French doors again, rocking gently on his feet as he waited for Joachim to arrive. His eyes were on the here and now, but his mind far in the past. It was reliving the day that the horns had sounded, and Gaius Julius had led his legion across the Rubicon and into an unknown future. There was something to be said for simply casting the die, and then relying on your own strength of arms to make something of the result. Musa smiled softly. These were the times that he lived for. Everything else was just doing what he had to do to get from the last adventure to the next one.
When Joachim arrived fifteen minutes later, he was still rocking on his feet and smiling. He was going to war. He was content.
Last edited by Kzinti_Killer on Wed Apr 20, 2005 3:25 am, edited 1 time in total.
Dragons, Ogres, & Pretty Boy Lawyers Slain, Reasonable Rates, Call After 5:00 At 1-900-OhMyGodWhatWereTheyThinkingOf
"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
-- Henry Jenkins
"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
-- Henry Jenkins
-
Kzinti_Killer
- Administrator
- Posts: 1019
- Joined: Fri Feb 22, 2002 6:44 am
- Location: High Reaches Weyr, Northern Pern
Title: Still Yours
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.
STILL YOURS - Part 18c
(Irresistible Forces and Immovable Objects)
The Crashdown Cafe.....11:20 AM
Liz saw the Blazer pull up in front and heaved a sigh of relief. Max had been giving her play by play as he'd driven over, so she knew that she really shouldn't have been so wound up, but she couldn't help it. Her dad was being difficult.
Max walked into the Crashdown, and had Liz in his arms as soon as he was in the door. They both shut out the world momentarily to let their bodies answer the emotions that were flying back and forth through the connection. Love, affection, desire, and above all the comfort they drew from feeling each other. Telepathic union may have been cool, but it didn't stack up against the solid warmth of your beloved's physical presence.
Liz was rubbing her cheek on Max shoulder when she felt him tense up, as a shudder went through the connection. [i["~Max?~" [/i]
"~Er....I had my eyes closed, and I just opened them to see your parents looking at us through the order window. And your dad doesn't look happy,~" he replied. He felt Liz's amusement across the connection and bridled a bit. [i["~It isn't funny, Liz!~"[/i]
Liz sounded anything, but contrite, when she said, "~I love my father a lot Max, but he's going to have to learn to deal. I think that Mom has.~" She paused. "~I think that our moment has passed.... and the moment of truth is here.~"
Max sent an affirmative impulse as he gave her a brief squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. "~Shall we then? Just remember, we're in stall/go slow mode. I parked the Blazer in plain sight out in front. That means that Brody should be here pronto. And he's our ace in the hole with your dad.~"
Max released her and took her hand as she turned around to lead him into the kitchen to see her parents. Liz's hand was on the kitchen door and about to push it open when the front door flew open with a bang that drew murmurs from the few patrons in the cafe at the moment. "Max! There you are!" said Brody, loudly. "I thought that you were coming over to the museum," he paused then plunged on , "but this works better, much better. I can talk to Liz at the same time!"
Only an idiot could have missed Jeff and Nancy standing back in the kitchen, which is what Brody was counting on. Nothing quite defuses suspicions as well as a friendly buffoon does, so he was over playing the role. The sound of a throat being cleared was noticeable, and even a buffoon couldn't claim ignorance. Looking through the window Brody saw Jeff Parker wave him back into the kitchen in obvious invitation. Nodding he gestured to Max and Liz, both of whom recognized Brody 'at work' and kept a straight face, to lead the way into the kitchen.
Once they were through the doors, Brody took the lead and stepped up to Liz's parents. Extending his hand he said, "It's good to see you again Mr. Parker. We don't get to talk nearly enough. Other than at a meeting of the Small Business Association or, on the rare occasions when I actually come out of my cave across the street to fetch my own dinner, as opposed to having one of the young ladies deliver it."
Jeff was put off his stride by Brody's effusive greeting, which was, after all, kind of the idea. But he gathered himself and responded, "You're welcome here any anytime Mr. Davis; even though we don't mind delivering to a steady customer." He paused and tried to get back on track. "Liz tells me that you want to take her, and Max on a... a road trip? I don't mind telling you that I find that more than a little odd."
Brody shrugged. "Call it a confluence of events. The events of the last few days, in our little town, would be enough to jangle anyone's nerves. So the kids could certainly use a change of scenery. I imagine that anyone who can do so is making plans to get out of town, and the state, for a while. Then there's that unfortunate incident at the school last night, which has closed classes for a while, and which leaves the kids at lose ends."
He paused for breath. "I have an opportunity, through a friend of mine, to examine an untouched Native American site, up in the Four Corners area. The window of opportunity will only be open for a few days, then the professional archeologists will move in and shut the amateur 'crack pots' like myself, out." Brody grinned. "As a UFO-logist I have a particular interest in anything relating to the Indians of the American Southwest, whose lore and culture seems to be rich in extra-terrestrial contact stories.....if you know what to look for, and how to interpret it."
Jeff blinked. "So, you're taking Max along. I can grasp that." He glanced darkly at Max. "But why Liz?"
Brody laughed. "Your daughter has some unique qualifications. For one thing she's the granddaughter of the late Claudia Parker, your mother and one of the leading lights in Southwestern native archeology and anthropology. As such, and with her own scientific tendencies," Brody noticed Jeff beaming at his little girl at that statement, "she's had exposure to the subject matter. And she told me once that you've allowed her to go on occasional digs with her grandmother, over a summer." Brody raised an eyebrow. "Is that correct?"
Jeff nodded. "I still don't see why you want Liz. I mean, it's no great secret that you were quite wealthy before you bought the UFO Center, I'm sure that you could hire a hundred professionals to do whatever it is that you want done."
Shrugging, Brody replied, "That's just it, I couldn't. Academia is very unforgiving of heresy within the ranks. No professional archeologist would risk their reputation by working for me, or anyone like me. In Liz I have someone who's familiar with the material, and has some field experience. She may not be a pro, but she's here." Brody paused. "I'd pay her of course. A consulting fee at a daily rate. Say one hundred and twenty dollars a day?"
Jeff looked a little lost, so Nancy jumped in. "That's very generous of you Mr. Davis...."
Jeff gathered himself. "I don't think that..."
Brody knew he had them on the ropes. "One hundred and fifty dollars a day? Plus all expenses of course."
Jeff's mouth closed with a snap. No parent stands between their child and an opportunity like this. "I was told that Michael Guerin would be going as well?"
Brody nodded. "We'll be out roughing it for a few days. And I don't cook."
Jeff laughed. Michael was nothing if not a very good cook. "All right, I expect them to be fully, and I mean *fully*, chaperoned."
Liz made a despairing noise and said, "Daddy!".... as Max tried to find a hole in the floor to drop into.
Jeff's face reddened. "Lizzy it's not that I don't trust you and Max....it's...it's...."
"It's that your father and I were both your age once and he knows exactly what we would both have done in this situation. It would have scared *our* parents and it scares *him*," Nancy finished for her husband, then glanced at him and added, "so...he doesn't trust you and Max."
There was a moment of drawn silence, then the group broke up in laughter.
"Mom," Liz said. "You have my permission to *never* mention this subject in relation to you and Dad, and your wild youth, *ever again*. 'Kay?"
Nancy chuckled. Some things never change. She's been the same way with her own folks. "Okay, granted."
"All right," Brody said, pulling things back on track. "I can promise you that I'll be the most bloodthirsty chaperone in existence." He looked Jeff in the eye and stuck out his hand. "Do we have a deal?"
Jeff still had misgivings, but he'd be having those right up to the moment that his little girl marched to the altar on his arm. "All right, but lets call it an understanding instead of a deal." He paused. "She'll be home when?"
Brody pursed his lips. "I hope to get whatever I want done by Tuesday. But, if it develops that I need to stay over, I'll wait until Thursday, at the latest, then I'll put the kids on a plane home, at my own expense."
Jeff nodded. "That's agreeable, but just how *will* you be traveling to begin with?"
Brody grinned. "I have a nice roomy well appointed RV. One with room for twice as many as will actually be in it." When Jeff's eyebrows rose Brody shrugged. "There's 'roughing it', and then there 'masochism'. I can handle the former in a motor home. The later I don't even want to know about, let alone get personally acquainted with."
Jeff chuckled. "All right then," he looked at his daughter, "I expect you to phone in every day," he glanced at Max, then back at his daughter, "and I expect you both the behave yourselves." He left that sentence hanging, but they didn't need a diagram to know what he meant.
Brody, trying to stem an awkward moment, chose that moment to push things ahead. "Well, if this is settled, then we'd better let the kids pack, because I want to be on the road no later than 1:00 or 1:30."
Nancy frowned. "That's cutting it a little short, isn't it?"
Brody nodded. "It can't be helped. The sooner I get there, the sooner I can start work, and the longer I'll have before the professionals run me off."
Nancy nodded. "All right then." She paused and smiled at Liz. "Give Max a kiss honey and scoot upstairs to pack. You'll have days out of our sight to hold hands with him." She ignored Jeff's wince as she glanced back at Brody. "Will you be picking her up here?"
Liz paused in the act of kissing Max good-bye and said, "Mom, I still have Max's car here, and I really should give it back to him." When Max made as if to protest, she over rode him and went on. "Max has to get his parents' Blazer home for Isabel to use, and he can't drive two cars home at once, so it only makes sense that I drive his car over there when I'm ready. Brody's house isn't that far from there. He can either pick us up, or we can walk over to his house."
Nancy nodded, and sighed. Her little girl was growing up, and was capable of making her own choices....mostly. "All right honey, but you'd better scoot, and fast, if you're going to meet Brody's schedule."
Liz smiled, and gave Max a hug and a peck on the cheek, then spun and dashed upstairs to pack. Her mother followed more sedately, ostensibly to help her pack. And, no doubt, to dispense some last minute motherly advice. That left the men alone in the kitchen.
Brody deemed that it was time for a strategic withdrawal. "Max, why don't we head over to the Center? There are some things that I want your help with. Equipment to move for the trip. There isn't that much of it, so perhaps you could take it home with you in the Blazer? It won't take too long, then you can go and pack yourself."
Max nodded agreeably, and was ready to go with him, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked up into Jeff Parker's uncertain eyes.
Jeff was looking at Brody when he said, "Can I have just a minute of Max's time, please? Alone?"
Brody glanced at Max, who nodded. Brody shrugged and said, "I'll be across the street when you're done Max. Bring the Blazer around to the back alley and we'll load the equipment. Don't be too long, the clock is ticking now."
"Okay, I'll be there in a few minutes," Max said, then he added silently, “provided Jeff Parker lets me leave here alive.”
Brody, already heading for the kitchen door, waved and nodded.
Once the door closed, Jeff waited until he heard the bell on the front door and then looked around. There was a full staff working today, and while the kitchen had been okay for the talk they'd just finished, it wasn't exactly the setting he wanted for what he had to say to Max Evans. He beckoned Max back towards the staff break room and once inside; he closed the door and locked it to prevent interruption.
Max found that ominous.
Once they were both inside, Jeff turned to look at the boy before him and studied him intently, trying to see below the surface in order to divine his intentions. Jeff sighed deeply. "Max, when I got you in here, I knew exactly what I wanted to say. But now that we're here, I'm clueless" ...he trailed off...
Max nodded soberly. "This is 'the talk' isn't it, about Liz?"
Jeff half smiled. "I know, you've heard this all before..."
Max cut him off. "No sir, I haven't."
Jeff blinked. "You haven't?" He looked Max up and down. While there was nothing outwardly threatening about him, he'd still scare any father to death. He had everything that made teenage girls weak in the knees....and the judgment. "You mean that none of the fathers of any of the girls that you've dated even bothered to hold a conversation with you?"
Max shook his head. "No Mr. Parker, I'm sure that they would have, but I just never dated. Never got involved with anyone. Up until last year I think that my parents were getting...worried."
Jeff's eyebrows rose. "Worried?"
Max flushed and nodded back. "Yeah, 'worried'."
Jeff looked nonplused. "Okay, I'll ask the obvious question. Why not?"
"Why not?" Max responded. "You mean why no dating?" At Jeff's nod, Max paused in thought. "Mr. Parker when I got off the bus for my first day of school, at least the first day that *I* could remember, back in third grade, I was standing there clutching my sister's hand and surrounded by all this noise. There were all these strange people, and kids that I'd never seen before. My sister took to it like a duck to water, like she was born to it. I, on the other hand, was totally petrified. I wanted to go home, and never come back." Max shook his head ruefully. "Right then I'd have agreed to let Mom feed me mashed turnips for the rest of my life in exchange for the right to stay home, in my room."
Jeff shook his head. "Well, obviously something changed."
Max got a soft distant look as a memory took hold. "Oh yeah, something changed. We hadn't been off the bus a minute when I saw this girl. Though 'saw' is really a lousy choice of words for what I experienced. The instant that I laid eyes on her, time slowed to a crawl. But it couldn't move slowly enough, because my sister dragged me away into the school. But that brief glimpse was enough to keep me coming back. I got up each day and went to school based on the possibility that I might catch a glimpse of her again. Eventually I found myself enjoying
school, and learning, but that initial lure never went away. Every school day was measured from the moment that I'd last seen her face, to the next moment that I would see her again."
Jeff was staring at Max as if transfixed by the look on the boy's face.
Max blinked, clearing his eyes. "It was Liz. I fell in love with her, at first sight, in third grade. After that, I couldn't think of asking anyone else out. Because they weren't her."
"Bu-but..." Jeff stuttered... "But I never heard her mention you as... as...."
Max shrugged. "Until the shooting, until I almost lost that chance forever, I never had the guts to even say hi to her. I didn't think that I was... that she'd.... anyway, I just watched her from afar. Michael and Isabel referred to it as 'my escalating stalker tendencies'."
Jeff frowned, this wasn't going as planned. It was more like Max talking to *him* about Liz, than the other way around. "You make it sound like they didn't approve."
Max shrugged again. "They didn't, not at first." Max paused and then went on. "You know how kids sort of jell into groups that get really tight. Like Liz, Maria, and Alex did. And those groups can get kind of exclusive, to the point where it's bad for the people in them. That's how it was with us. For a while they saw Liz as a threat. I even think that there was a time when Maria and Alex saw *me* as a threat of sorts." Max smiled. "But we're past that now."
There was a long silence and then Max said, "You wanted to talk to me, Mr. Parker?"
Jeff sighed. "Yes, but I don't know how to.... look Max, since you came along, Lizzy's been on a real roller coaster of emotions. I just don't want her to fall off."
Max sighed. "You don't want her hurt."
Jeff nodded. "That's right."
"And you want me to promise that I won't hurt her," Max replied. "Right?"
Jeff looked a little lost, but he nodded in the affirmative.
Max sighed. "Mr. Parker I could rattle on about how we don't live in a prefect world, etcetera, and so on, but it comes down to this. I love Liz, and I'm certain that she loves me. We've hurt each other over the last year. Badly sometimes. But we've overcome it. I've had to forgive her things, and she's had to forgive me things, both large and small. And we did it, because the alternative was unbearable. In the end, I can't speak for Liz, only she can do that, but I know that I love her more now, this instant, than I ever thought was possible only a month ago. Mr. Parker, your daughter has more courage and integrity in her little finger than you and I together will ever have." Max sighed. "I can't promise you that I'll *never* hurt her. I'm not perfect, and I'm only mortal. So, words will get misspoken, there will be times of bad temper, or misunderstanding."
Jeff was floundering. Max's description of his little girl's... attributes seemed to be above and beyond what he would have expected from a teenage boy talking about his girlfriend. "’In her little finger?’ Just what the hell has Lizzy been up to,” he wondered. He wasn't sure where Max was going with this, but prodded him anyway. "Max, this isn't exactly filling me with confidence here."
"Mr. Parker, I can't foretell the future, and neither can you. I can't promise you something like that. I just can't, it wouldn't be honest, but I *can* promise you that I will *never ever* knowingly hurt her feelings, or do something that would place her in harm's way. And I can promise you that I'll love her until the day that I die, no matter what."
Jeff blinked. Those words and the emotions behind them, bordered on sounding like wedding vows. “We are so not going there,” he thought. “Not yet.” He paused to gather himself. "All right, I suppose that's the best that I can hope for. Just know this Max, if I ever have reason to suspect that you've... gone back on your word, I'll do everything in my power to keep you from hurting Liz any further. You're both still minors, in high school, and very much under parental control. I expect you both to behave as such. Liz has a bright future ahead, and I'd like to see her fulfill it. If you're included in it, fine... as long as I don't see you don't holding her back. The first time that I see that, I'll do everything necessary to keep you out of her life."
Max swallowed and nodded. "I understand, Sir. I wouldn't expect anything else." He hated lying to Jeff, even by omission. But it was necessary. Max idly wondered which bit of withheld information would cause Jeff to kill him faster, the fact that he was an alien and the impact that all the baggage that went with that little fact had had on Liz.... or the fact that Max had slept with her. Max shuddered briefly. “Here's hoping that I never find out,” he thought.
Jeff studied the play of emotions on Max's face and decided that this would have to do. "I guess that we're finished here. You'd better get on across the street before Brody calls the sheriff." Jeff blinked in surprise as Max stuck out his hand. Jeff hesitated only a moment before taking it.
Max grinned. "He'll be wondering what happened, that's for sure. I don't know if we'll see each other again before we leave, but thanks for the talk. It was good to clear the air a little."
Jeff unlocked the door and waved Max through. The kitchen door was still swinging in the wake of Max's departure when Jeff felt an arm slide around his waist.
"Well," said Nancy, "did you talk?"
Jeff nodded. "Yep."
"And?" Nancy prompted him.
Jeff chuckled. "It was the damnedest thing, but I got the distinct feeling that *he* was directing the conversation, not me. If nothing else, the boy has a future in politics." He sighed. "I learned enough to either settle my fears, or scare the shit out of me. I haven't decided which yet. I won't stop worrying, but I won't hound them either. He loves Lizzy. That will have to do."
Nancy nodded as she chuckled. "Told ya." She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Liz is setting a speed record for packing. You might want to go up and tell her good-bye while you have the chance."
Jeff grunted, and turned to kiss his wife. "You're awfully calm about the idea that he might take her from us."
Nancy frowned. "You make it sound like she's property. She isn't. She's our daughter. And someday, someone *will* 'take her from us'. If it's Max, then so be it." She paused then went on. "Just as long as it isn't next week," she amended. What she wasn't telling him was that she suspected that the kids had already stolen the march on them. There was nothing obvious or overt that she could point to, but she was certain that her daughter had made the leap to womanhood... and recently. Her gut told her so. “I'll have to have a talk with Liz, and soon, just
us girls,” she thought, “but Jeff doesn't need to know about that yet.” Curiously she wasn't as upset by the possibility as she would have been a year ago.
Blissfully unaware of his wife's internal dialogue, Jeff laughed aloud. "I couldn't have said it better myself," he said, and kissed his wife soundly. "I'm going up to see Liz. I'll be back shortly. In the meantime, see if you can remind that new waitress of the difference between regular coffee, and decaf, will you? I'm all out of tact."
Jeff kissed Nancy one more time and then headed upstairs to see his daughter off. Over the years to come there would be times that he would regret not having thrown Max Evans out of the cafe that day. In fact, there would be more than a few times when he'd regret not having shot him on sight. But there would never be a time when he would doubt for a moment, the love that the boy and his daughter bore for each other.
Outside the Crashdown....same time
Max was about to get in the Blazer when it happened.
"~So-o-o Max,~" Liz's mind voice drawled in his head, backed by currents of mental laughter, "~What did my father want to talk to you about?~"
Max paused and looked up at the Crashdown, in the general direction of Liz's room and answered, "~What makes you think that he talked to me about anything?~"
There was a moment of silence and then Liz giggled. "~Don't try to pull the wool over *my* eyes Max Evans, the evidence is against you. First, Mom was watching from upstairs, and told me when Brody left. Second, she didn't see *you* leave, but then, with my 'Max proximity detector', I'd have known that anyway. Third, Dad didn't come upstairs with her. And fourth, and last, you can't tell me that you didn't feel me. I didn't eavesdrop,
but I was there supporting you. Loving you. I could feel your emotions. Damnedest mix I ever saw. It felt like you were pleading a court case, while wrestling an alligator at the same time. And now I can feel you fostering one of your 'what have I done to her life' guilt trips.~" With a velvet touch, she caressed his mind with hers. "~So it follows that you two had a talk.~"
Max shook his head and grinned, before getting in the Blazer. Standing there like a statue he was drawing attention to himself. "~Yes, we talked. Or I talked. Or something. He just doesn't want to see you hurt, because of me. And I don't want to see you hurt.... again. Because of me.~"
There was a soft wave washing into him through the connection, half of sorrow, half of love. "~Max, I won't say that there weren't times in the last year when the pain wasn't harsh. For both of us, I know. But what I said in the beginning still holds true. It was my choice, to risk being hurt. And, if I had to choose all over again, knowing what I know now, I'd still choose the risk. I'd choose you. My father doesn't get a vote. And the only way that
*you* get a vote is by telling me that you don't love me.~"
Max took a deep breath and let it out in a long shuddering sigh as he leaned forward to rest his head on his hands, where they gripped the top of the steering wheel. "~There's no chance of that. Ever.~"
Liz reached out through the connection and strummed his soul gently. "~There ya go, Sweetheart. All settled.~" There was a pause. "~Ooops, Dad just knocked on my door. I'll get back with you later, Max. Bye! I love you!~"
"~Bye Liz~," he whispered in his mind. "~I'll see you at the house. I love you too!~" Then the connection dialed down.
Glancing at his watch he saw the time. "Oh shit," he muttered. "I'd better see if Brody really needs me and get it over with, because the guys are going to need me pretty damned quickly, once Isabel realizes that she's trapped." With that, he started the engine and backed out in a hurry, cutting a U-turn to turn in next to the UFO Center. He found Brody waiting at the back door, with folded arms and a wide grin.
Brody made a show of looking his young friend over. "Well, no blood, no bruises, and no broken bones."
Max shrugged. "Nah, I healed myself. Now, ten minutes ago I was a basket case." Both friends broke up laughing, and then Max went on. "Did you actually have some stuff for me to take home?"
Brody was still snorting. "I didn't think that I did, I was just using that as an excuse to get us both out the door, but I thought about it and came up with some tech gear that might help us. Night vision goggles, laser range finders, a lap top with a portable satellite uplink, GPS gear, and assorted other party supplies. Big boy toys," he said with a grin.
Max shook his head, and grinned. "Okay, lets get it in the back of the SUV, so I can get home before Isabel levels the neighborhood." With that, his head went up as his name was called.
"~Max!~"
"~Liz?~" he responded.
"~Michael just called here. Isabel wants to leave. Now! So, whatever it is that you're doing with Brody, wrap it up and get home,~" came Liz's urgent message.
Max paled a little. If Michael had actually called, he was desperate. "~Okay, I'm on it. Love you!~"
"~Love you too. I need to call the others. Now move it!~" she fired back, then closed the connection.
He looked up to see Brody looking at him with concern. Max shook his head. "Don't worry Brody, it was just Liz letting *us* know that Michael called to let *her* know, so that she could let *me* know, that our worst fears have been realized. Isabel is on the warpath. So lets get your stuff in the SUV. I have a berserk sister to corral."
Brody laughed and nudged two large equipment cases with one foot. "It's all in here. We're ready to roll."
It was only a moment's work to hoist the cases into the SUV; they weren't that heavy. Then Brody and Max said hurried good-byes. As Max jumped into the Blazer and turned the ignition key, Brody turned at the back door and shouted, "I'll pick you up in an hour or so! And, Good Luck!"
Max was already roaring down the alley to emerge on the other side of the block when he muttered, "Thanks. I'm gonna need it."
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.
STILL YOURS - Part 18c
(Irresistible Forces and Immovable Objects)
The Crashdown Cafe.....11:20 AM
Liz saw the Blazer pull up in front and heaved a sigh of relief. Max had been giving her play by play as he'd driven over, so she knew that she really shouldn't have been so wound up, but she couldn't help it. Her dad was being difficult.
Max walked into the Crashdown, and had Liz in his arms as soon as he was in the door. They both shut out the world momentarily to let their bodies answer the emotions that were flying back and forth through the connection. Love, affection, desire, and above all the comfort they drew from feeling each other. Telepathic union may have been cool, but it didn't stack up against the solid warmth of your beloved's physical presence.
Liz was rubbing her cheek on Max shoulder when she felt him tense up, as a shudder went through the connection. [i["~Max?~" [/i]
"~Er....I had my eyes closed, and I just opened them to see your parents looking at us through the order window. And your dad doesn't look happy,~" he replied. He felt Liz's amusement across the connection and bridled a bit. [i["~It isn't funny, Liz!~"[/i]
Liz sounded anything, but contrite, when she said, "~I love my father a lot Max, but he's going to have to learn to deal. I think that Mom has.~" She paused. "~I think that our moment has passed.... and the moment of truth is here.~"
Max sent an affirmative impulse as he gave her a brief squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. "~Shall we then? Just remember, we're in stall/go slow mode. I parked the Blazer in plain sight out in front. That means that Brody should be here pronto. And he's our ace in the hole with your dad.~"
Max released her and took her hand as she turned around to lead him into the kitchen to see her parents. Liz's hand was on the kitchen door and about to push it open when the front door flew open with a bang that drew murmurs from the few patrons in the cafe at the moment. "Max! There you are!" said Brody, loudly. "I thought that you were coming over to the museum," he paused then plunged on , "but this works better, much better. I can talk to Liz at the same time!"
Only an idiot could have missed Jeff and Nancy standing back in the kitchen, which is what Brody was counting on. Nothing quite defuses suspicions as well as a friendly buffoon does, so he was over playing the role. The sound of a throat being cleared was noticeable, and even a buffoon couldn't claim ignorance. Looking through the window Brody saw Jeff Parker wave him back into the kitchen in obvious invitation. Nodding he gestured to Max and Liz, both of whom recognized Brody 'at work' and kept a straight face, to lead the way into the kitchen.
Once they were through the doors, Brody took the lead and stepped up to Liz's parents. Extending his hand he said, "It's good to see you again Mr. Parker. We don't get to talk nearly enough. Other than at a meeting of the Small Business Association or, on the rare occasions when I actually come out of my cave across the street to fetch my own dinner, as opposed to having one of the young ladies deliver it."
Jeff was put off his stride by Brody's effusive greeting, which was, after all, kind of the idea. But he gathered himself and responded, "You're welcome here any anytime Mr. Davis; even though we don't mind delivering to a steady customer." He paused and tried to get back on track. "Liz tells me that you want to take her, and Max on a... a road trip? I don't mind telling you that I find that more than a little odd."
Brody shrugged. "Call it a confluence of events. The events of the last few days, in our little town, would be enough to jangle anyone's nerves. So the kids could certainly use a change of scenery. I imagine that anyone who can do so is making plans to get out of town, and the state, for a while. Then there's that unfortunate incident at the school last night, which has closed classes for a while, and which leaves the kids at lose ends."
He paused for breath. "I have an opportunity, through a friend of mine, to examine an untouched Native American site, up in the Four Corners area. The window of opportunity will only be open for a few days, then the professional archeologists will move in and shut the amateur 'crack pots' like myself, out." Brody grinned. "As a UFO-logist I have a particular interest in anything relating to the Indians of the American Southwest, whose lore and culture seems to be rich in extra-terrestrial contact stories.....if you know what to look for, and how to interpret it."
Jeff blinked. "So, you're taking Max along. I can grasp that." He glanced darkly at Max. "But why Liz?"
Brody laughed. "Your daughter has some unique qualifications. For one thing she's the granddaughter of the late Claudia Parker, your mother and one of the leading lights in Southwestern native archeology and anthropology. As such, and with her own scientific tendencies," Brody noticed Jeff beaming at his little girl at that statement, "she's had exposure to the subject matter. And she told me once that you've allowed her to go on occasional digs with her grandmother, over a summer." Brody raised an eyebrow. "Is that correct?"
Jeff nodded. "I still don't see why you want Liz. I mean, it's no great secret that you were quite wealthy before you bought the UFO Center, I'm sure that you could hire a hundred professionals to do whatever it is that you want done."
Shrugging, Brody replied, "That's just it, I couldn't. Academia is very unforgiving of heresy within the ranks. No professional archeologist would risk their reputation by working for me, or anyone like me. In Liz I have someone who's familiar with the material, and has some field experience. She may not be a pro, but she's here." Brody paused. "I'd pay her of course. A consulting fee at a daily rate. Say one hundred and twenty dollars a day?"
Jeff looked a little lost, so Nancy jumped in. "That's very generous of you Mr. Davis...."
Jeff gathered himself. "I don't think that..."
Brody knew he had them on the ropes. "One hundred and fifty dollars a day? Plus all expenses of course."
Jeff's mouth closed with a snap. No parent stands between their child and an opportunity like this. "I was told that Michael Guerin would be going as well?"
Brody nodded. "We'll be out roughing it for a few days. And I don't cook."
Jeff laughed. Michael was nothing if not a very good cook. "All right, I expect them to be fully, and I mean *fully*, chaperoned."
Liz made a despairing noise and said, "Daddy!".... as Max tried to find a hole in the floor to drop into.
Jeff's face reddened. "Lizzy it's not that I don't trust you and Max....it's...it's...."
"It's that your father and I were both your age once and he knows exactly what we would both have done in this situation. It would have scared *our* parents and it scares *him*," Nancy finished for her husband, then glanced at him and added, "so...he doesn't trust you and Max."
There was a moment of drawn silence, then the group broke up in laughter.
"Mom," Liz said. "You have my permission to *never* mention this subject in relation to you and Dad, and your wild youth, *ever again*. 'Kay?"
Nancy chuckled. Some things never change. She's been the same way with her own folks. "Okay, granted."
"All right," Brody said, pulling things back on track. "I can promise you that I'll be the most bloodthirsty chaperone in existence." He looked Jeff in the eye and stuck out his hand. "Do we have a deal?"
Jeff still had misgivings, but he'd be having those right up to the moment that his little girl marched to the altar on his arm. "All right, but lets call it an understanding instead of a deal." He paused. "She'll be home when?"
Brody pursed his lips. "I hope to get whatever I want done by Tuesday. But, if it develops that I need to stay over, I'll wait until Thursday, at the latest, then I'll put the kids on a plane home, at my own expense."
Jeff nodded. "That's agreeable, but just how *will* you be traveling to begin with?"
Brody grinned. "I have a nice roomy well appointed RV. One with room for twice as many as will actually be in it." When Jeff's eyebrows rose Brody shrugged. "There's 'roughing it', and then there 'masochism'. I can handle the former in a motor home. The later I don't even want to know about, let alone get personally acquainted with."
Jeff chuckled. "All right then," he looked at his daughter, "I expect you to phone in every day," he glanced at Max, then back at his daughter, "and I expect you both the behave yourselves." He left that sentence hanging, but they didn't need a diagram to know what he meant.
Brody, trying to stem an awkward moment, chose that moment to push things ahead. "Well, if this is settled, then we'd better let the kids pack, because I want to be on the road no later than 1:00 or 1:30."
Nancy frowned. "That's cutting it a little short, isn't it?"
Brody nodded. "It can't be helped. The sooner I get there, the sooner I can start work, and the longer I'll have before the professionals run me off."
Nancy nodded. "All right then." She paused and smiled at Liz. "Give Max a kiss honey and scoot upstairs to pack. You'll have days out of our sight to hold hands with him." She ignored Jeff's wince as she glanced back at Brody. "Will you be picking her up here?"
Liz paused in the act of kissing Max good-bye and said, "Mom, I still have Max's car here, and I really should give it back to him." When Max made as if to protest, she over rode him and went on. "Max has to get his parents' Blazer home for Isabel to use, and he can't drive two cars home at once, so it only makes sense that I drive his car over there when I'm ready. Brody's house isn't that far from there. He can either pick us up, or we can walk over to his house."
Nancy nodded, and sighed. Her little girl was growing up, and was capable of making her own choices....mostly. "All right honey, but you'd better scoot, and fast, if you're going to meet Brody's schedule."
Liz smiled, and gave Max a hug and a peck on the cheek, then spun and dashed upstairs to pack. Her mother followed more sedately, ostensibly to help her pack. And, no doubt, to dispense some last minute motherly advice. That left the men alone in the kitchen.
Brody deemed that it was time for a strategic withdrawal. "Max, why don't we head over to the Center? There are some things that I want your help with. Equipment to move for the trip. There isn't that much of it, so perhaps you could take it home with you in the Blazer? It won't take too long, then you can go and pack yourself."
Max nodded agreeably, and was ready to go with him, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked up into Jeff Parker's uncertain eyes.
Jeff was looking at Brody when he said, "Can I have just a minute of Max's time, please? Alone?"
Brody glanced at Max, who nodded. Brody shrugged and said, "I'll be across the street when you're done Max. Bring the Blazer around to the back alley and we'll load the equipment. Don't be too long, the clock is ticking now."
"Okay, I'll be there in a few minutes," Max said, then he added silently, “provided Jeff Parker lets me leave here alive.”
Brody, already heading for the kitchen door, waved and nodded.
Once the door closed, Jeff waited until he heard the bell on the front door and then looked around. There was a full staff working today, and while the kitchen had been okay for the talk they'd just finished, it wasn't exactly the setting he wanted for what he had to say to Max Evans. He beckoned Max back towards the staff break room and once inside; he closed the door and locked it to prevent interruption.
Max found that ominous.
Once they were both inside, Jeff turned to look at the boy before him and studied him intently, trying to see below the surface in order to divine his intentions. Jeff sighed deeply. "Max, when I got you in here, I knew exactly what I wanted to say. But now that we're here, I'm clueless" ...he trailed off...
Max nodded soberly. "This is 'the talk' isn't it, about Liz?"
Jeff half smiled. "I know, you've heard this all before..."
Max cut him off. "No sir, I haven't."
Jeff blinked. "You haven't?" He looked Max up and down. While there was nothing outwardly threatening about him, he'd still scare any father to death. He had everything that made teenage girls weak in the knees....and the judgment. "You mean that none of the fathers of any of the girls that you've dated even bothered to hold a conversation with you?"
Max shook his head. "No Mr. Parker, I'm sure that they would have, but I just never dated. Never got involved with anyone. Up until last year I think that my parents were getting...worried."
Jeff's eyebrows rose. "Worried?"
Max flushed and nodded back. "Yeah, 'worried'."
Jeff looked nonplused. "Okay, I'll ask the obvious question. Why not?"
"Why not?" Max responded. "You mean why no dating?" At Jeff's nod, Max paused in thought. "Mr. Parker when I got off the bus for my first day of school, at least the first day that *I* could remember, back in third grade, I was standing there clutching my sister's hand and surrounded by all this noise. There were all these strange people, and kids that I'd never seen before. My sister took to it like a duck to water, like she was born to it. I, on the other hand, was totally petrified. I wanted to go home, and never come back." Max shook his head ruefully. "Right then I'd have agreed to let Mom feed me mashed turnips for the rest of my life in exchange for the right to stay home, in my room."
Jeff shook his head. "Well, obviously something changed."
Max got a soft distant look as a memory took hold. "Oh yeah, something changed. We hadn't been off the bus a minute when I saw this girl. Though 'saw' is really a lousy choice of words for what I experienced. The instant that I laid eyes on her, time slowed to a crawl. But it couldn't move slowly enough, because my sister dragged me away into the school. But that brief glimpse was enough to keep me coming back. I got up each day and went to school based on the possibility that I might catch a glimpse of her again. Eventually I found myself enjoying
school, and learning, but that initial lure never went away. Every school day was measured from the moment that I'd last seen her face, to the next moment that I would see her again."
Jeff was staring at Max as if transfixed by the look on the boy's face.
Max blinked, clearing his eyes. "It was Liz. I fell in love with her, at first sight, in third grade. After that, I couldn't think of asking anyone else out. Because they weren't her."
"Bu-but..." Jeff stuttered... "But I never heard her mention you as... as...."
Max shrugged. "Until the shooting, until I almost lost that chance forever, I never had the guts to even say hi to her. I didn't think that I was... that she'd.... anyway, I just watched her from afar. Michael and Isabel referred to it as 'my escalating stalker tendencies'."
Jeff frowned, this wasn't going as planned. It was more like Max talking to *him* about Liz, than the other way around. "You make it sound like they didn't approve."
Max shrugged again. "They didn't, not at first." Max paused and then went on. "You know how kids sort of jell into groups that get really tight. Like Liz, Maria, and Alex did. And those groups can get kind of exclusive, to the point where it's bad for the people in them. That's how it was with us. For a while they saw Liz as a threat. I even think that there was a time when Maria and Alex saw *me* as a threat of sorts." Max smiled. "But we're past that now."
There was a long silence and then Max said, "You wanted to talk to me, Mr. Parker?"
Jeff sighed. "Yes, but I don't know how to.... look Max, since you came along, Lizzy's been on a real roller coaster of emotions. I just don't want her to fall off."
Max sighed. "You don't want her hurt."
Jeff nodded. "That's right."
"And you want me to promise that I won't hurt her," Max replied. "Right?"
Jeff looked a little lost, but he nodded in the affirmative.
Max sighed. "Mr. Parker I could rattle on about how we don't live in a prefect world, etcetera, and so on, but it comes down to this. I love Liz, and I'm certain that she loves me. We've hurt each other over the last year. Badly sometimes. But we've overcome it. I've had to forgive her things, and she's had to forgive me things, both large and small. And we did it, because the alternative was unbearable. In the end, I can't speak for Liz, only she can do that, but I know that I love her more now, this instant, than I ever thought was possible only a month ago. Mr. Parker, your daughter has more courage and integrity in her little finger than you and I together will ever have." Max sighed. "I can't promise you that I'll *never* hurt her. I'm not perfect, and I'm only mortal. So, words will get misspoken, there will be times of bad temper, or misunderstanding."
Jeff was floundering. Max's description of his little girl's... attributes seemed to be above and beyond what he would have expected from a teenage boy talking about his girlfriend. "’In her little finger?’ Just what the hell has Lizzy been up to,” he wondered. He wasn't sure where Max was going with this, but prodded him anyway. "Max, this isn't exactly filling me with confidence here."
"Mr. Parker, I can't foretell the future, and neither can you. I can't promise you something like that. I just can't, it wouldn't be honest, but I *can* promise you that I will *never ever* knowingly hurt her feelings, or do something that would place her in harm's way. And I can promise you that I'll love her until the day that I die, no matter what."
Jeff blinked. Those words and the emotions behind them, bordered on sounding like wedding vows. “We are so not going there,” he thought. “Not yet.” He paused to gather himself. "All right, I suppose that's the best that I can hope for. Just know this Max, if I ever have reason to suspect that you've... gone back on your word, I'll do everything in my power to keep you from hurting Liz any further. You're both still minors, in high school, and very much under parental control. I expect you both to behave as such. Liz has a bright future ahead, and I'd like to see her fulfill it. If you're included in it, fine... as long as I don't see you don't holding her back. The first time that I see that, I'll do everything necessary to keep you out of her life."
Max swallowed and nodded. "I understand, Sir. I wouldn't expect anything else." He hated lying to Jeff, even by omission. But it was necessary. Max idly wondered which bit of withheld information would cause Jeff to kill him faster, the fact that he was an alien and the impact that all the baggage that went with that little fact had had on Liz.... or the fact that Max had slept with her. Max shuddered briefly. “Here's hoping that I never find out,” he thought.
Jeff studied the play of emotions on Max's face and decided that this would have to do. "I guess that we're finished here. You'd better get on across the street before Brody calls the sheriff." Jeff blinked in surprise as Max stuck out his hand. Jeff hesitated only a moment before taking it.
Max grinned. "He'll be wondering what happened, that's for sure. I don't know if we'll see each other again before we leave, but thanks for the talk. It was good to clear the air a little."
Jeff unlocked the door and waved Max through. The kitchen door was still swinging in the wake of Max's departure when Jeff felt an arm slide around his waist.
"Well," said Nancy, "did you talk?"
Jeff nodded. "Yep."
"And?" Nancy prompted him.
Jeff chuckled. "It was the damnedest thing, but I got the distinct feeling that *he* was directing the conversation, not me. If nothing else, the boy has a future in politics." He sighed. "I learned enough to either settle my fears, or scare the shit out of me. I haven't decided which yet. I won't stop worrying, but I won't hound them either. He loves Lizzy. That will have to do."
Nancy nodded as she chuckled. "Told ya." She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Liz is setting a speed record for packing. You might want to go up and tell her good-bye while you have the chance."
Jeff grunted, and turned to kiss his wife. "You're awfully calm about the idea that he might take her from us."
Nancy frowned. "You make it sound like she's property. She isn't. She's our daughter. And someday, someone *will* 'take her from us'. If it's Max, then so be it." She paused then went on. "Just as long as it isn't next week," she amended. What she wasn't telling him was that she suspected that the kids had already stolen the march on them. There was nothing obvious or overt that she could point to, but she was certain that her daughter had made the leap to womanhood... and recently. Her gut told her so. “I'll have to have a talk with Liz, and soon, just
us girls,” she thought, “but Jeff doesn't need to know about that yet.” Curiously she wasn't as upset by the possibility as she would have been a year ago.
Blissfully unaware of his wife's internal dialogue, Jeff laughed aloud. "I couldn't have said it better myself," he said, and kissed his wife soundly. "I'm going up to see Liz. I'll be back shortly. In the meantime, see if you can remind that new waitress of the difference between regular coffee, and decaf, will you? I'm all out of tact."
Jeff kissed Nancy one more time and then headed upstairs to see his daughter off. Over the years to come there would be times that he would regret not having thrown Max Evans out of the cafe that day. In fact, there would be more than a few times when he'd regret not having shot him on sight. But there would never be a time when he would doubt for a moment, the love that the boy and his daughter bore for each other.
Outside the Crashdown....same time
Max was about to get in the Blazer when it happened.
"~So-o-o Max,~" Liz's mind voice drawled in his head, backed by currents of mental laughter, "~What did my father want to talk to you about?~"
Max paused and looked up at the Crashdown, in the general direction of Liz's room and answered, "~What makes you think that he talked to me about anything?~"
There was a moment of silence and then Liz giggled. "~Don't try to pull the wool over *my* eyes Max Evans, the evidence is against you. First, Mom was watching from upstairs, and told me when Brody left. Second, she didn't see *you* leave, but then, with my 'Max proximity detector', I'd have known that anyway. Third, Dad didn't come upstairs with her. And fourth, and last, you can't tell me that you didn't feel me. I didn't eavesdrop,
but I was there supporting you. Loving you. I could feel your emotions. Damnedest mix I ever saw. It felt like you were pleading a court case, while wrestling an alligator at the same time. And now I can feel you fostering one of your 'what have I done to her life' guilt trips.~" With a velvet touch, she caressed his mind with hers. "~So it follows that you two had a talk.~"
Max shook his head and grinned, before getting in the Blazer. Standing there like a statue he was drawing attention to himself. "~Yes, we talked. Or I talked. Or something. He just doesn't want to see you hurt, because of me. And I don't want to see you hurt.... again. Because of me.~"
There was a soft wave washing into him through the connection, half of sorrow, half of love. "~Max, I won't say that there weren't times in the last year when the pain wasn't harsh. For both of us, I know. But what I said in the beginning still holds true. It was my choice, to risk being hurt. And, if I had to choose all over again, knowing what I know now, I'd still choose the risk. I'd choose you. My father doesn't get a vote. And the only way that
*you* get a vote is by telling me that you don't love me.~"
Max took a deep breath and let it out in a long shuddering sigh as he leaned forward to rest his head on his hands, where they gripped the top of the steering wheel. "~There's no chance of that. Ever.~"
Liz reached out through the connection and strummed his soul gently. "~There ya go, Sweetheart. All settled.~" There was a pause. "~Ooops, Dad just knocked on my door. I'll get back with you later, Max. Bye! I love you!~"
"~Bye Liz~," he whispered in his mind. "~I'll see you at the house. I love you too!~" Then the connection dialed down.
Glancing at his watch he saw the time. "Oh shit," he muttered. "I'd better see if Brody really needs me and get it over with, because the guys are going to need me pretty damned quickly, once Isabel realizes that she's trapped." With that, he started the engine and backed out in a hurry, cutting a U-turn to turn in next to the UFO Center. He found Brody waiting at the back door, with folded arms and a wide grin.
Brody made a show of looking his young friend over. "Well, no blood, no bruises, and no broken bones."
Max shrugged. "Nah, I healed myself. Now, ten minutes ago I was a basket case." Both friends broke up laughing, and then Max went on. "Did you actually have some stuff for me to take home?"
Brody was still snorting. "I didn't think that I did, I was just using that as an excuse to get us both out the door, but I thought about it and came up with some tech gear that might help us. Night vision goggles, laser range finders, a lap top with a portable satellite uplink, GPS gear, and assorted other party supplies. Big boy toys," he said with a grin.
Max shook his head, and grinned. "Okay, lets get it in the back of the SUV, so I can get home before Isabel levels the neighborhood." With that, his head went up as his name was called.
"~Max!~"
"~Liz?~" he responded.
"~Michael just called here. Isabel wants to leave. Now! So, whatever it is that you're doing with Brody, wrap it up and get home,~" came Liz's urgent message.
Max paled a little. If Michael had actually called, he was desperate. "~Okay, I'm on it. Love you!~"
"~Love you too. I need to call the others. Now move it!~" she fired back, then closed the connection.
He looked up to see Brody looking at him with concern. Max shook his head. "Don't worry Brody, it was just Liz letting *us* know that Michael called to let *her* know, so that she could let *me* know, that our worst fears have been realized. Isabel is on the warpath. So lets get your stuff in the SUV. I have a berserk sister to corral."
Brody laughed and nudged two large equipment cases with one foot. "It's all in here. We're ready to roll."
It was only a moment's work to hoist the cases into the SUV; they weren't that heavy. Then Brody and Max said hurried good-byes. As Max jumped into the Blazer and turned the ignition key, Brody turned at the back door and shouted, "I'll pick you up in an hour or so! And, Good Luck!"
Max was already roaring down the alley to emerge on the other side of the block when he muttered, "Thanks. I'm gonna need it."
Last edited by Kzinti_Killer on Wed Apr 20, 2005 3:33 am, edited 1 time in total.
Dragons, Ogres, & Pretty Boy Lawyers Slain, Reasonable Rates, Call After 5:00 At 1-900-OhMyGodWhatWereTheyThinkingOf
"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
-- Henry Jenkins
"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
-- Henry Jenkins
-
Kzinti_Killer
- Administrator
- Posts: 1019
- Joined: Fri Feb 22, 2002 6:44 am
- Location: High Reaches Weyr, Northern Pern
Title: Still Yours
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.
STILL YOURS - Part 18d
(Irresistible Forces and Immovable Objects)
In front of the Evans Home, minutes later......12:45 PM
Max risked a speeding ticket as he raced down the quiet suburban street, and the Blazer's tires squealed as he made a fast turn and brake into the driveway. Shutting off the engine he studied the house. It looked normal enough. No blast holes, broken glass, or drifting smoke. All the same it had that 'All Hope Abandon, Ye Who Enter Here' look about it. He sighed. There was no putting it off. What would be the worst that could happen? Flying monkeys? Getting out of the SUV he cautiously walked up to the door, and went in. Closing the door he noticed that Kyle and Michael were both lounging in the living room, still watching ESPN. Neither of them show any signs of scorch marks or blood stains.
"Okay Evans, you're home, which means I'm outta here," Kyle said as he tossed Michael the remote. Kyle jumped over the couch and grabbed his jacket, then paused to put his hand on Max's shoulder. "Good luck El Presidente, it couldn't happen to a nicer guy." Then he was out the door as it slammed behind him.
Max looked at Michael and said, "What's the deal Michael? Your call to Liz made it sound like she was tearing the house down."
Michael was about to answer when another voice cut in.....
"MAX EVANS?? IS THAT YOU??? IF IT IS, DON'T *MAKE* ME COME AND FIND YOU?!" Isabel bellowed. That was the only way to describe it. Bellowed. Max could have sworn that the windows rattled and the walls bulged.
Michael smirked. "I think that, that's your cue Your Majesty." He clicked off the TV and stood as if to leave.
"Freeze!" Max hissed. "You're going nowhere."
Michael shook his head. "Afraid not ol' buddy. I have to get over to *my* place and throw some stuff in a bag, if I'm going on this little safari. I'm outta here. I'll see you in an hour, what's left of you." With that, the door slammed a second time as Michael vanished through it.
There was a loud thud, followed by the sound of something breaking. "MAX?! GET YOUR DEPOSED ALIEN ASS UPSTAIRS. NOW!"
Max sighed, and closed his eyes. Time to do or die. "Keep your Calvins on, I'm coming!" he shouted, then he *walked* upstairs. He'd be damned if he'd hurry, because neither of them was going anywhere, until *everyone* was ready.
Vancouver International Airport....1:35 PM
The acceleration that accompanied take-off drove Joachim gently, but firmly, back into his seat. With any luck, or even with no luck at all, they'd be on the ground at Sea-Tac in ninety minutes. After that he'd have to herd this bunch of later day brigands through customs and into a limo, and get them to the Airport Radisson. Then wait for Britanicus to arrive, and hope that none of the travel arrangements had gotten hashed up.
As a general rule, he didn't get much time like this. Unstructured, unhurried, kick-back-do-nothing time. Time in
which to think. The truth was that he didn't like it. Thinking that is. It was one of the reasons that he made such a capable subordinate. He could execute policy (and people) without cluttering things up with his own opinions or value judgments. Except, on those rare occasions like this, when he had to remain alert to keep an eye of the hellions that he was responsible for, yet he had to remain idle. So all he could do was...think.
Did he really know anything about the people that they were on their way to kill? Did he hate them? He was certain that Britanicus didn't, but that didn't detract in the least from his will and intent to kill them. In many ways, it was as if he and Britanicus had been created for each other. The Roman was the ideal military commander, and Joachim was the ideal subordinate. Ying and yang.
Still, at times like these, he tried to imagine the sort of life he'd have led, had he not fallen under his master's tutelage. For some reason, flowers always seemed to spring to mind. His office faced onto the estate's gardens, and he loved to look at them. To see them change through a year, as one sort of flower blossomed, died, and gave way to the next species to bloom. There was a symmetry to it. A completeness. A reminder that death cannot be cheated forever, and that it is the inevitable price of life and beauty.
He might not have been a gardener at the moment, but he thought that he would have enjoyed gardening. A voice, raised in protest, snapped Joachim out of his reverie. Terry Beils, one of punks that Malorte had brought in, was being a little too forward, with a girl who was far too young for such attention. When the girl's male companion had gotten up to go to the lavatory, Beils had claimed his seat and was trying some ham handed flirting. Joachim stood up and walked the ten steps to where Beils sat and leaned close to his ear. "You have three possible choices," he whispered. "Get up and return to your seat. Or I can kill you here and now. Or Britanicus can kill you later, assuming that you manage to defeat *me*."
Beils smirked as he tried to lay his hand of the girl's leg.. "You wouldn't dare touch me, not on a crowded plane."
Joachim shook his head. "What would stop me? My Master had enough troops *before* Malorte dragged you curs in with him. He doesn't need you, or me. So, I kill you, then I surrender and await developments. What's the worst that they can do? Execute me? And if a Quickening brings the plane down, so what? My odds of survival are better than most." Joachim grinned. "Go back to your seat, and stay there.... and pray that I'm in a good mood when Britanicus lands."
Beils held Joachim's eyes for a moment, then he saw something there that made him pale, and he excused himself
to return to his seat. The girl hadn't heard the low exchange of words, but she knew a rescue when she saw one. She tried to thank Joachim, but he waved off her thanks with a mumbled platitude, then went back to his own seat. His former introspection was gone. He was a centurion. He kept men ready to fight, and led them in battle, but it was up to his superior to tell him where, when, and why to fight.
Battle was coming. That was all that he needed to know. He was content.
I-285...Ten miles North of Roswell.....1:45 PM Thursday Afternoon
Max was up front with Brody, watching the scenery fly by. The last hour before they'd left had been truly insane. Arguing with Isabel, while trying to pack his own clothes had been an experience that he could have done without. The argument hadn't lasted *that* long, but it had been intense. She had wanted to go now, now, NOW. But, once she'd noticed that he *was* packing himself, she'd settled down a little. And Liz's arrival, not long afterwards, had calmed her down further. He still thought that, at some point, he had a baby oil nightmare
coming. But, what the hell, Brody had picked them all up fifteen minutes ago.... and they were moving at last. Isabel was in back with Liz, using the on board satellite phone. In her hurry Iz hadn't called into Dad's office to notify them of her absence. And now, they were making a, for them, unprecedented international call to let their parents know that they weren't going to be home. They were sticking to the 'using UFO research to get out of town for a breather' story.
He couldn't hear it, but he knew that the television in the dining area was on. Michael had died and gone to heaven when he'd realized that, not only did the RV have a television, but it had a plasma TV with a satellite feed. He'd been parked in front of it ever since they'd hit the road. When Max had passed him, on his way forward, after leaving the girls in back, he noticed that Michael was watching a live Chilean soccer game. It helped that
Michael was using headphones now, where he hadn’t been previously, on orders from the women, and under pain of death. Max couldn't help but agree with the girls. The silence was nice.
Somewhere behind them, Sheriff Valenti's SUV would be rolling shortly, if it wasn't already. They'd called the DeLuca home shortly before leaving to find that Jim and Kyle were already there and waiting, but that Maria and Amy were still packing, then unpacking, and then repacking. After ironing out a few details with Brody, Jim had said that they'd be following in a few minutes. Knowing Maria, Max had to wonder. He'd been watching Michael ever since he'd come back from his place, and he'd seen him cringe several times...presumably due to some
unheard internal dialogue with his diminutive fireball of a soul-mate.
"~Max?~" came the soft voice in his mind.
"~Yes Liz?~" he responded.
"~We're almost done back here,~" she said. "~Your parents were surprised, but not upset. I gather that they got a phone call from *my* parents just before our call. Anyway, we still have them on the phone, if you want to say hi.~"
He smiled to himself. "~Okay, I'll be right back.~" Then he turned to Brody and said, "Liz wants me. I'll be back in a few." Then he got up and headed back to talk to his folks.
I-285....a few miles further south...same time
The passenger area of the SUV was silent, as Amy DeLuca occupied herself much the same way that Max had been, miles ahead of them. In a harried last minute phone call the men had agreed that, whoever reached the rest stop south of Santa Fe first would stop and wait for the other vehicle. At that point, Kyle and Maria would transfer to the RV, and Brody would give Jim a compact, and extremely powerful, handheld radio and a portable
GPS Tracker/Tracer unit. That way they could keep track of each other and communicate. The radio, and its mate, had a unique scrambling system that guaranteed no one would be eavesdropping on them, even by accident.
Amy was a woman with a mission. On first acquaintance most people tended to consider her a flake. Truth be told, many kept that opinion through the second and then the third acquaintance. But, for anyone with the tenacity to work at it, there was a surprise waiting for them in knowing Amy DeLuca well. They would find a spiritual woman, intelligent, gentle, perceptive, and possessing deep convictions. Those deep convictions were
the issue of the moment. Part of her wanted to make Jim turn around and go back, taking Maria out of harm's way. Or just stop and let her out along the highway if need be. But only a part. She wasn't just Maria's mother in this. She was mother to them all, even to Alex, so far away and caught up in danger. If she left Maria behind, she would follow. If she stayed to restrain her, then she was abandoning her other 'children' to their fate. The
only way to handle it was if they were all in the same place at the same time. And that meant going with them. Her convictions wouldn't allow for any other solution.
So Amy sat in the SUV and watched the terrain roll by as they drove north, towards probable battle, something that she never could have imagined a year ago. “It's amazing how quickly the outrageous can become normal, when you're exposed to it every day,” she thought. The back seat had been quiet, after some initial bickering between Maria and Kyle. Amy glanced over at Jim. She hadn't yet allowed herself to dare to think of it openly,
but should he ask her to marry him, it looked like they could make it work at least as far as the kids were concerned. She hoped....
"Mom?"
Her train of thought was broken. "Yes Maria?"
"I'm getting into the cooler for some water; do you and Jim want anything?"
Amy glanced at Jim who shook his head, no, and answered, "No Honey, we're fine."
There was some momentary stirring in the back seat as Maria helped herself to the cooler, then silence. And Amy turned back to studying desert scrub as it flew by. Nope, she wasn't who she had been. She wasn't in Kansas anymore. But then she'd always marched to the beat of a different drummer, so she understood better than most the unifying question around which her odd little 'family' was built. 'What's so great about normal?'
In the back seat Maria was fuming, mostly at herself. She'd given Michael a fairly hard time while she was packing, unpacking, and then packing again. When he'd come by to try and help, she'd practically chased him off with a stick. Even though she'd known that it wasn't fair, she'd vented her frustration on him, both in person and through their connection. And now the 'stone wall' was back. Well, not the actual stone wall. If she'd wanted to, she could have gone through it, and he wouldn't have been able to keep her out entirely. But the fact
that he was holding back said that he wanted to be left alone. Maria sighed and thought, “He's earned it I guess. I'll have to make it up to him later,” as she silently vowed that Michael wouldn't be the only one to master self-control in this relationship.
And the miles rolled on....
Bear Run Asylum.......3:00 PM
Schrick*CLANG* *CLANG!*
The sound of steel on steel. Richie and Alex were sparring out in front of the asylum to a mixed audience. Methos and Cassandra were lounging on the front steps, while Duncan ran commentary. Amanda was up on watch, though how much watching she was doing was problematic. Knowing that The Watchers had to have observers in the area, she'd taken to trying to spot them, and freak them out by waving.
*CLANG* Alex struck and danced away before Richie could parry, then returned only to find Richie meeting him half-way. *CLANG*schrick*PR-RANG* Alex parried struck a blow of his own and spun away again.
"Good!" Duncan said in praise. "Use your speed to stay out of his reach. But remember, this only works when you have room to move. When you were fighting Conterras, you forgot that, and he nearly had you. Be aware of your surroundings. Trip on, stumble over, or run into something that shouldn't be there, and you're dead." Then he nodded at Richie.
*CLANG*schrick*CLANG*PRANG*CLANG* Richie unleashed a blizzard of blows... *CLANG* .....designed to disorient.... *CLANG* ... over-power and confuse. Testing Alex's ability to stay focused when the action got hot, and to test his stamina. The fight went on at maximum, non-stop for nearly five minutes before Duncan clapped his hands and called a halt. Both young men were panting and dripping sweat.
Alex managed a weak grin as he mopped at perspiration. "I could have lasted longer, why'd you stop us?
Duncan shook his head. "This isn't life or death...yet. You've already been working for two hours. You were both getting tired, and you would have started getting sloppy." Duncan rubbed his stomach absently. "That's when accidents happen. Both of you go get cleaned up." He paused then went on. "Alex, go up and spend some time with Amanda, getting the hang of guard duty, then send her down. Someone will bring up supper and then I'll relieve you before dark. Richie, when you get done, come and find me, I want to do a walkabout with Methos to get a feel for the terrain around the building."
Cassandra cleared her throat. "Duncan, why don't I go up and join Amanda instead of Alex? When things start to heat up, you aren't going to have him on duty anyway." Alex flushed and looked at the ground. Cassandra noticed and said gently, "Alex, it's not your fault that you're inexperienced at this. You're just young. That's a simple fact, not an indictment of your character. Now go get cleaned up."
Duncan watched Alex and Richie leave. In a few moments they'd be taking turns at the pump out back. Then he turned to Cassandra. "You don't mind?"
Cass shook her head. "He has a lifetime ahead of him to learn sentry duty, or I hope he does. Right now I get the feeling that he has enough on his plate. Let him relax a little and wander around with you boys, exploring. The time for that sort of thing is growing shorter by the hour... and you never know when he might need the knowledge of the area."
Duncan shrugged. "All right, we'll be gone a few hours. We may be out of sight, but we won't be that far away. And we'll have a radio. If you have trouble, sing out."
Cass nodded and grinned. "You're getting bossy junior. I'm not your student. I know how the game is played."
Duncan snorted. "Sorry, old habits die hard. Just try to keep Amanda out of trouble while we're gone."
Cass nodded, then gave Methos a peck on the cheek, but as she turned to head upstairs to the roof ladder, she couldn't help thinking that keeping Amanda out of trouble was a tall order, for anyone, anywhere... anytime.
Watcher Observation Post on the shoulder of Tiger Mountain........same time
Sam Carsten cursed and jerked his eye back from the eye piece on the telescope. His companion Moira Flynn looked up curiously. "What?"
Sam muttered and took a bite of the sandwich he was having for lunch. "She knows that we're here. I'm never going to get used to the idea that they know that we're here. What happened to the good old days, when they were all in blissful ignorance of us?" he growled.
Moira clucked sympathetically as she took a bite of her own sandwich and returned to fiddling with the guts of some night vision gear. "Times change Sam, times change. And it's not like they *all* know. It's just MacLeod and his friends. And she can't actually *see* us. We're too far away and Joe told me that the gear that they have isn't designed for long distance. She's just guessing based on where *she'd* be herself, if she were in our shoes. What'd she do this time? Flip you the finger again?"
Sam flushed uncomfortably. "No."
Flynn caught his tone. "No what? What did she do?" she prodded.
Sam looked away and muttered.
Moira smirked. "What? I didn't catch that."
Carsten looked back at his partner. "She mooned me. She stood up, dropped trow' and mooned me. Satisfied now?"
Laughter was the order of the day in the observation post, not least for Flynn because she knew that word was bound to get back to the Immortals, through Dawson. Moira knew her principal well. This would just make Amanda's whole day...which was just as well, because in a very few days, no one would be in a laughing mood at all.
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.
STILL YOURS - Part 18d
(Irresistible Forces and Immovable Objects)
In front of the Evans Home, minutes later......12:45 PM
Max risked a speeding ticket as he raced down the quiet suburban street, and the Blazer's tires squealed as he made a fast turn and brake into the driveway. Shutting off the engine he studied the house. It looked normal enough. No blast holes, broken glass, or drifting smoke. All the same it had that 'All Hope Abandon, Ye Who Enter Here' look about it. He sighed. There was no putting it off. What would be the worst that could happen? Flying monkeys? Getting out of the SUV he cautiously walked up to the door, and went in. Closing the door he noticed that Kyle and Michael were both lounging in the living room, still watching ESPN. Neither of them show any signs of scorch marks or blood stains.
"Okay Evans, you're home, which means I'm outta here," Kyle said as he tossed Michael the remote. Kyle jumped over the couch and grabbed his jacket, then paused to put his hand on Max's shoulder. "Good luck El Presidente, it couldn't happen to a nicer guy." Then he was out the door as it slammed behind him.
Max looked at Michael and said, "What's the deal Michael? Your call to Liz made it sound like she was tearing the house down."
Michael was about to answer when another voice cut in.....
"MAX EVANS?? IS THAT YOU??? IF IT IS, DON'T *MAKE* ME COME AND FIND YOU?!" Isabel bellowed. That was the only way to describe it. Bellowed. Max could have sworn that the windows rattled and the walls bulged.
Michael smirked. "I think that, that's your cue Your Majesty." He clicked off the TV and stood as if to leave.
"Freeze!" Max hissed. "You're going nowhere."
Michael shook his head. "Afraid not ol' buddy. I have to get over to *my* place and throw some stuff in a bag, if I'm going on this little safari. I'm outta here. I'll see you in an hour, what's left of you." With that, the door slammed a second time as Michael vanished through it.
There was a loud thud, followed by the sound of something breaking. "MAX?! GET YOUR DEPOSED ALIEN ASS UPSTAIRS. NOW!"
Max sighed, and closed his eyes. Time to do or die. "Keep your Calvins on, I'm coming!" he shouted, then he *walked* upstairs. He'd be damned if he'd hurry, because neither of them was going anywhere, until *everyone* was ready.
Vancouver International Airport....1:35 PM
The acceleration that accompanied take-off drove Joachim gently, but firmly, back into his seat. With any luck, or even with no luck at all, they'd be on the ground at Sea-Tac in ninety minutes. After that he'd have to herd this bunch of later day brigands through customs and into a limo, and get them to the Airport Radisson. Then wait for Britanicus to arrive, and hope that none of the travel arrangements had gotten hashed up.
As a general rule, he didn't get much time like this. Unstructured, unhurried, kick-back-do-nothing time. Time in
which to think. The truth was that he didn't like it. Thinking that is. It was one of the reasons that he made such a capable subordinate. He could execute policy (and people) without cluttering things up with his own opinions or value judgments. Except, on those rare occasions like this, when he had to remain alert to keep an eye of the hellions that he was responsible for, yet he had to remain idle. So all he could do was...think.
Did he really know anything about the people that they were on their way to kill? Did he hate them? He was certain that Britanicus didn't, but that didn't detract in the least from his will and intent to kill them. In many ways, it was as if he and Britanicus had been created for each other. The Roman was the ideal military commander, and Joachim was the ideal subordinate. Ying and yang.
Still, at times like these, he tried to imagine the sort of life he'd have led, had he not fallen under his master's tutelage. For some reason, flowers always seemed to spring to mind. His office faced onto the estate's gardens, and he loved to look at them. To see them change through a year, as one sort of flower blossomed, died, and gave way to the next species to bloom. There was a symmetry to it. A completeness. A reminder that death cannot be cheated forever, and that it is the inevitable price of life and beauty.
He might not have been a gardener at the moment, but he thought that he would have enjoyed gardening. A voice, raised in protest, snapped Joachim out of his reverie. Terry Beils, one of punks that Malorte had brought in, was being a little too forward, with a girl who was far too young for such attention. When the girl's male companion had gotten up to go to the lavatory, Beils had claimed his seat and was trying some ham handed flirting. Joachim stood up and walked the ten steps to where Beils sat and leaned close to his ear. "You have three possible choices," he whispered. "Get up and return to your seat. Or I can kill you here and now. Or Britanicus can kill you later, assuming that you manage to defeat *me*."
Beils smirked as he tried to lay his hand of the girl's leg.. "You wouldn't dare touch me, not on a crowded plane."
Joachim shook his head. "What would stop me? My Master had enough troops *before* Malorte dragged you curs in with him. He doesn't need you, or me. So, I kill you, then I surrender and await developments. What's the worst that they can do? Execute me? And if a Quickening brings the plane down, so what? My odds of survival are better than most." Joachim grinned. "Go back to your seat, and stay there.... and pray that I'm in a good mood when Britanicus lands."
Beils held Joachim's eyes for a moment, then he saw something there that made him pale, and he excused himself
to return to his seat. The girl hadn't heard the low exchange of words, but she knew a rescue when she saw one. She tried to thank Joachim, but he waved off her thanks with a mumbled platitude, then went back to his own seat. His former introspection was gone. He was a centurion. He kept men ready to fight, and led them in battle, but it was up to his superior to tell him where, when, and why to fight.
Battle was coming. That was all that he needed to know. He was content.
I-285...Ten miles North of Roswell.....1:45 PM Thursday Afternoon
Max was up front with Brody, watching the scenery fly by. The last hour before they'd left had been truly insane. Arguing with Isabel, while trying to pack his own clothes had been an experience that he could have done without. The argument hadn't lasted *that* long, but it had been intense. She had wanted to go now, now, NOW. But, once she'd noticed that he *was* packing himself, she'd settled down a little. And Liz's arrival, not long afterwards, had calmed her down further. He still thought that, at some point, he had a baby oil nightmare
coming. But, what the hell, Brody had picked them all up fifteen minutes ago.... and they were moving at last. Isabel was in back with Liz, using the on board satellite phone. In her hurry Iz hadn't called into Dad's office to notify them of her absence. And now, they were making a, for them, unprecedented international call to let their parents know that they weren't going to be home. They were sticking to the 'using UFO research to get out of town for a breather' story.
He couldn't hear it, but he knew that the television in the dining area was on. Michael had died and gone to heaven when he'd realized that, not only did the RV have a television, but it had a plasma TV with a satellite feed. He'd been parked in front of it ever since they'd hit the road. When Max had passed him, on his way forward, after leaving the girls in back, he noticed that Michael was watching a live Chilean soccer game. It helped that
Michael was using headphones now, where he hadn’t been previously, on orders from the women, and under pain of death. Max couldn't help but agree with the girls. The silence was nice.
Somewhere behind them, Sheriff Valenti's SUV would be rolling shortly, if it wasn't already. They'd called the DeLuca home shortly before leaving to find that Jim and Kyle were already there and waiting, but that Maria and Amy were still packing, then unpacking, and then repacking. After ironing out a few details with Brody, Jim had said that they'd be following in a few minutes. Knowing Maria, Max had to wonder. He'd been watching Michael ever since he'd come back from his place, and he'd seen him cringe several times...presumably due to some
unheard internal dialogue with his diminutive fireball of a soul-mate.
"~Max?~" came the soft voice in his mind.
"~Yes Liz?~" he responded.
"~We're almost done back here,~" she said. "~Your parents were surprised, but not upset. I gather that they got a phone call from *my* parents just before our call. Anyway, we still have them on the phone, if you want to say hi.~"
He smiled to himself. "~Okay, I'll be right back.~" Then he turned to Brody and said, "Liz wants me. I'll be back in a few." Then he got up and headed back to talk to his folks.
I-285....a few miles further south...same time
The passenger area of the SUV was silent, as Amy DeLuca occupied herself much the same way that Max had been, miles ahead of them. In a harried last minute phone call the men had agreed that, whoever reached the rest stop south of Santa Fe first would stop and wait for the other vehicle. At that point, Kyle and Maria would transfer to the RV, and Brody would give Jim a compact, and extremely powerful, handheld radio and a portable
GPS Tracker/Tracer unit. That way they could keep track of each other and communicate. The radio, and its mate, had a unique scrambling system that guaranteed no one would be eavesdropping on them, even by accident.
Amy was a woman with a mission. On first acquaintance most people tended to consider her a flake. Truth be told, many kept that opinion through the second and then the third acquaintance. But, for anyone with the tenacity to work at it, there was a surprise waiting for them in knowing Amy DeLuca well. They would find a spiritual woman, intelligent, gentle, perceptive, and possessing deep convictions. Those deep convictions were
the issue of the moment. Part of her wanted to make Jim turn around and go back, taking Maria out of harm's way. Or just stop and let her out along the highway if need be. But only a part. She wasn't just Maria's mother in this. She was mother to them all, even to Alex, so far away and caught up in danger. If she left Maria behind, she would follow. If she stayed to restrain her, then she was abandoning her other 'children' to their fate. The
only way to handle it was if they were all in the same place at the same time. And that meant going with them. Her convictions wouldn't allow for any other solution.
So Amy sat in the SUV and watched the terrain roll by as they drove north, towards probable battle, something that she never could have imagined a year ago. “It's amazing how quickly the outrageous can become normal, when you're exposed to it every day,” she thought. The back seat had been quiet, after some initial bickering between Maria and Kyle. Amy glanced over at Jim. She hadn't yet allowed herself to dare to think of it openly,
but should he ask her to marry him, it looked like they could make it work at least as far as the kids were concerned. She hoped....
"Mom?"
Her train of thought was broken. "Yes Maria?"
"I'm getting into the cooler for some water; do you and Jim want anything?"
Amy glanced at Jim who shook his head, no, and answered, "No Honey, we're fine."
There was some momentary stirring in the back seat as Maria helped herself to the cooler, then silence. And Amy turned back to studying desert scrub as it flew by. Nope, she wasn't who she had been. She wasn't in Kansas anymore. But then she'd always marched to the beat of a different drummer, so she understood better than most the unifying question around which her odd little 'family' was built. 'What's so great about normal?'
In the back seat Maria was fuming, mostly at herself. She'd given Michael a fairly hard time while she was packing, unpacking, and then packing again. When he'd come by to try and help, she'd practically chased him off with a stick. Even though she'd known that it wasn't fair, she'd vented her frustration on him, both in person and through their connection. And now the 'stone wall' was back. Well, not the actual stone wall. If she'd wanted to, she could have gone through it, and he wouldn't have been able to keep her out entirely. But the fact
that he was holding back said that he wanted to be left alone. Maria sighed and thought, “He's earned it I guess. I'll have to make it up to him later,” as she silently vowed that Michael wouldn't be the only one to master self-control in this relationship.
And the miles rolled on....
Bear Run Asylum.......3:00 PM
Schrick*CLANG* *CLANG!*
The sound of steel on steel. Richie and Alex were sparring out in front of the asylum to a mixed audience. Methos and Cassandra were lounging on the front steps, while Duncan ran commentary. Amanda was up on watch, though how much watching she was doing was problematic. Knowing that The Watchers had to have observers in the area, she'd taken to trying to spot them, and freak them out by waving.
*CLANG* Alex struck and danced away before Richie could parry, then returned only to find Richie meeting him half-way. *CLANG*schrick*PR-RANG* Alex parried struck a blow of his own and spun away again.
"Good!" Duncan said in praise. "Use your speed to stay out of his reach. But remember, this only works when you have room to move. When you were fighting Conterras, you forgot that, and he nearly had you. Be aware of your surroundings. Trip on, stumble over, or run into something that shouldn't be there, and you're dead." Then he nodded at Richie.
*CLANG*schrick*CLANG*PRANG*CLANG* Richie unleashed a blizzard of blows... *CLANG* .....designed to disorient.... *CLANG* ... over-power and confuse. Testing Alex's ability to stay focused when the action got hot, and to test his stamina. The fight went on at maximum, non-stop for nearly five minutes before Duncan clapped his hands and called a halt. Both young men were panting and dripping sweat.
Alex managed a weak grin as he mopped at perspiration. "I could have lasted longer, why'd you stop us?
Duncan shook his head. "This isn't life or death...yet. You've already been working for two hours. You were both getting tired, and you would have started getting sloppy." Duncan rubbed his stomach absently. "That's when accidents happen. Both of you go get cleaned up." He paused then went on. "Alex, go up and spend some time with Amanda, getting the hang of guard duty, then send her down. Someone will bring up supper and then I'll relieve you before dark. Richie, when you get done, come and find me, I want to do a walkabout with Methos to get a feel for the terrain around the building."
Cassandra cleared her throat. "Duncan, why don't I go up and join Amanda instead of Alex? When things start to heat up, you aren't going to have him on duty anyway." Alex flushed and looked at the ground. Cassandra noticed and said gently, "Alex, it's not your fault that you're inexperienced at this. You're just young. That's a simple fact, not an indictment of your character. Now go get cleaned up."
Duncan watched Alex and Richie leave. In a few moments they'd be taking turns at the pump out back. Then he turned to Cassandra. "You don't mind?"
Cass shook her head. "He has a lifetime ahead of him to learn sentry duty, or I hope he does. Right now I get the feeling that he has enough on his plate. Let him relax a little and wander around with you boys, exploring. The time for that sort of thing is growing shorter by the hour... and you never know when he might need the knowledge of the area."
Duncan shrugged. "All right, we'll be gone a few hours. We may be out of sight, but we won't be that far away. And we'll have a radio. If you have trouble, sing out."
Cass nodded and grinned. "You're getting bossy junior. I'm not your student. I know how the game is played."
Duncan snorted. "Sorry, old habits die hard. Just try to keep Amanda out of trouble while we're gone."
Cass nodded, then gave Methos a peck on the cheek, but as she turned to head upstairs to the roof ladder, she couldn't help thinking that keeping Amanda out of trouble was a tall order, for anyone, anywhere... anytime.
Watcher Observation Post on the shoulder of Tiger Mountain........same time
Sam Carsten cursed and jerked his eye back from the eye piece on the telescope. His companion Moira Flynn looked up curiously. "What?"
Sam muttered and took a bite of the sandwich he was having for lunch. "She knows that we're here. I'm never going to get used to the idea that they know that we're here. What happened to the good old days, when they were all in blissful ignorance of us?" he growled.
Moira clucked sympathetically as she took a bite of her own sandwich and returned to fiddling with the guts of some night vision gear. "Times change Sam, times change. And it's not like they *all* know. It's just MacLeod and his friends. And she can't actually *see* us. We're too far away and Joe told me that the gear that they have isn't designed for long distance. She's just guessing based on where *she'd* be herself, if she were in our shoes. What'd she do this time? Flip you the finger again?"
Sam flushed uncomfortably. "No."
Flynn caught his tone. "No what? What did she do?" she prodded.
Sam looked away and muttered.
Moira smirked. "What? I didn't catch that."
Carsten looked back at his partner. "She mooned me. She stood up, dropped trow' and mooned me. Satisfied now?"
Laughter was the order of the day in the observation post, not least for Flynn because she knew that word was bound to get back to the Immortals, through Dawson. Moira knew her principal well. This would just make Amanda's whole day...which was just as well, because in a very few days, no one would be in a laughing mood at all.
Last edited by Kzinti_Killer on Sat Feb 25, 2006 8:42 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Dragons, Ogres, & Pretty Boy Lawyers Slain, Reasonable Rates, Call After 5:00 At 1-900-OhMyGodWhatWereTheyThinkingOf
"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
-- Henry Jenkins
"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
-- Henry Jenkins
-
Kzinti_Killer
- Administrator
- Posts: 1019
- Joined: Fri Feb 22, 2002 6:44 am
- Location: High Reaches Weyr, Northern Pern
Title: Still Yours
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.
STILL YOURS - Part 18e
(Irresistible Forces and Immovable Objects)
Rest Area, South of Sante Fe, New Mexico......4:00 PM
The motor home's engine didn't even have time to get cold, before the Jim Valenti's plain SUV rolled in next to it and stopped. Liz, Max, and Isabel were off stretching their legs, and getting a look the facilities, leaving Brody at the RV, along with Michael, who was still engrossed in the television. He had ESPN on now, though for a while there he'd been watching a cooking show, of all things. This had reminded Brody of the ostensible reason for Michael being along, and he smiled as he got out of the driver's seat to go out and greet their friends. “Maybe I wasn't so far off the mark at that,” he thought.
Jim, Amy, and the kids were already out of the truck and stretching to get the kinks out. Jim tossed Kyle the keys. "You and Maria might as well move your stuff over to the motor home now, while we're all here."
Kyle groaned, but he could see the sense. Still, what he really wanted was a long walk to loosen his muscles before he got in that motor home. "'Kay Dad," he paused, "Maria, you coming?"
Maria's eyes were on the motor home as she nervously twisted the solitaire on her finger. She could sense that Michael was there. "Huh…what? Can't that wait?"
Amy chuckled indulgently. She knew her daughter and Michael well enough by now to know what was ailing Maria. "Go on Honey, talk to him. Jim and I will help Kyle with your stuff."
Maria traded eye contact with her mother and smiled. It was funny, but now that she was engaged to her surly alien, her mother came off less like the enemy, and more like an ally. Was it her mother that had changed? Or her perception of her mother? Or, perhaps some of both? "Thanks Mom, I shouldn't be too long," and added under her breath, "I hope."
Leaving the others, with Brody emerging from the motor home to talk to Jim and her mother, while a muttering Kyle moved both his stuff *and* hers to the RV's cargo compartment, she went to the door, opened it, and climbed aboard. She already knew where he was. Approaching him from behind she tentatively reached out to touch his shoulder, and halted just short of contact.
"~Michael?~"
He didn't answer, though he shifted slightly in his seat.
"~Michael, please?~" she said, plaintively this time.
A deep shudder ran through Michael's shoulders, accompanied by a matching one through the connection. He flipped off the television decisively, pulled the headphones off, dropped them, and swiveled his seat to reach out with his hands and grasp her waist. She only stiffened for a moment as he drew her to him gently, but irresistibly, and buried his face in her midriff, rubbing gently. Maria shivered as the tactile sensations brought on by his actions fell on her senses like rain on long dried ground.
"It's amazing," she thought, "the closer that we get, the more dependent that we become on each other. A few hours with the connection damped down felt like centuries. A week ago that would have scared me to death. Now I think that it's what I've been missing all my life." She was puzzled though. The connection was still mostly closed. She could feel it though, there, trembling with potential. "Michael?" she queried aloud, as she prodded gently with her mind.
The dam broke. Maria's arms had been resting lightly on his shoulders. Now they tightened convulsively, and Michael's arms around her waist matched her own grip as an avalanche of pent up emotions stream into her, washing around them both like a torrent. Love, loss, fear, and above all else, embarrassment...they washed around and through Maria, leaving her gasping, and weeping softly. "~Micheal? What is it? What's thematter?~” Then she felt him, pushing softly with his mind.... like he was initiating... like he wanted her to know...and Maria yielded without a second thought, earth tremors be damned.
**FUSION**
It was awake, but without a mission of consequence. It studied the time base for the last few hours in the minds of Its constituents and realized why It was here. The realization caused the equivalent of a disgusted snort. Borrowing from the pop culture section of the maria’s mind It thought, "What am I...Doctor Phil?" Given the volatile natures of Its constituents, It got the impression that It may be awakened like this a *lot* in the years to come. It sighed internally, if somewhat fondly...."Composite, the marriage counselor, that's me,".... and returned to sleep.
**FISSION**
Maria returned to herself still wrapped in Michael's arms, and acutely aware of him. Had they been truly alone, she'd have taken him on the spot. He'd taken the direct route to letting her understand, by throwing himself open to her. So she would know. So that they wouldn't have to stumble towards understanding what was going on between them.
Michael's ego was still easily bruised. And he over-compensated for his self-esteem issues by being overbearing at times. With everyone's...and especially Maria's...help, he was getting better about the overbearing part, but that low self-esteem that caused it was still there, and still festering. When Maria had run him off, he'd been hurt. He'd responded by shutting down. Before the connection, it had been easy to avoid her. Now it was impossible. Worse, the connection had so changed him that, he didn't want to. He needed her like he needed air to breathe. And the feeling was mutual. But, by the time this realization had hit him, he'd been in shut down mode for so long that he was afraid of her reaction should he open up again, and he was embarrassed by his own weakness and self-doubt.
Maria stroked his unkempt hair softly. "~If you're going to doubt yourself Michael, okay. We'll deal with that a little at a time. The same goes for doubting me. But, Spaceboy, the one thing that you will always be able to depend on is love. Our love. Yours and mine. You've just had living proof that our whole is greater than the sum of its parts. That proves that we were meant to be. You don't *ever* have to doubt *us*. Whatever the years bring. Whatever fights we have. Whatever unkind things are said, and forgiven, you'll never have reason to doubt *us* again.~"
Michael shuddered again. "I know," he said out loud. "Or I should... I just felt..."
"Stupid?" Maria finished for him.
Michael winced. "Yeah, I guess so."
"Well don't," Maria turned his face up and kissed him. "You were just being human. Welcome to Earth," she finished with a smirk.
Michael winced again. "~How many human men can blow things up and converse telepathically with their significant other? What happens one day if *you* start having power incidents like Liz and Kyle are?~"
Maria shrugged. "~So what? After you, do you think that I'd settle for normal? A normal human guy would bore me to death in a week...less even. And as for the powers, I can imagine all sorts of things that they'd be handy for...like reminding my husband of when it's his turn to get up to feed the baby.~"
Michael flushed and grinned. "~Getting a little ahead of yourself there, aren't you?~"
Maria leaned in and purred. "~Actually, that's pretty close to what I had in mind...~" and she was cut off as the door opened and Kyle's voice rolled into the motor home.
"Okay, you two have had enough time to kiss and make up. Liz, Max, and Isabel are back, and I'm starving. Let's find a restaurant, like now!" he bellowed. "Maria, you owe me for moving your crap over to the RV. Move it you two!" Behind him they could here Liz and Max...laughing.
Maria kissed him, a promise for later, then pulled Michael to his feet, and dragged him after her. Emerging from the RV they saw that it was only Kyle, Max, and Liz.
"Where are the others? Where's my mom?" asked Maria.
Kyle jerked his thumb over his shoulder, and she followed the indicated line of sight to see the adults and Isabel not too far away, but getting further with every step as they headed towards a cluster of buildings that looked to be fast food joints.
"They got tired of waiting and headed for chow," he said, "which is something that I'd suggest that we do too, and pronto. I have no idea what Brody has this bus of his stocked with, food-wise, but I'm not counting on it for either quantity or variety. What we eat now will most likely have to hold us until breakfast tomorrow. So, let's haul ass, and don't forget the doggie bags." So saying he turned abruptly and took off after the others, leaving the two couples to trail along behind more slowly.
Maria frowned at Liz. "What was the idea with the laughter? You find it *that* funny that Kyle broke in on... well... he broke in.... on what he broke in on?"
Liz's eyes glinted merrily, and her soul mate wasn't far behind her. "You bet. Maria do you have any idea how many times in the last two years you've managed to 'interrupt' Max and me? Do you?" Her smile broadened. "Privately we took to calling it 'Maria-Interruptus'. I know that both of us were half expecting you to show up the other afternoon when we... er... well we were expecting you to show up and offer advice, or condoms, or
something."
Max laughed outright and said, "So turnabout...."
"...is fair play," Liz finished.
Maria flushed. "I haven't been *that* bad."
Max shook his head, and smiled to take the sting out of his words. "Sorry, but you have. I used to think that you had some sort of super powers yourself. Some sort precognition that let you know exactly when and where to be at the right times to mess with our love life."
Michael snorted, tried to contain himself and then started laughing outright. He couldn't even stop when Maria thumped him on the chest; he simply backed away and kept laughing. Maria pursued, and they ended up running across the parking lot with Michael in the lead, even though he was hampered by his laughter, and a with a half furious Maria in pursuit. Leaving Max and Liz to follow sedately behind, hand in hand…which, of
course, suited them just fine.
Vicinity of Bear Run......4:30 PM
"She was in your head while you were drunk?" Richie's voice floated through the forest, accompanied by the crunching of leaves, and the occasional muffled curse. "Oh you poor slob." He chuckled. "The potential for mayhem almost makes up for the taser that you hit me with."
"It isn't funny Richie," Alex shot back in a panicked tone. "I don't remember everything, but God only knows what she saw in there! You do NOT want Isabel Evans pissed at you."
This brought a round of laughter from the entire party.
The reconnaissance party was made up of Duncan, Methos, Richie, and Alex. They were all hot and sweaty, but Duncan kept pushing to make a complete sweep of the area. The land in the direction of the interstate, while not flat, was only modestly rolling. So exploration there had been quick and easy, but thorough. Duncan wanted to know every depression and every piece of cover that Britanicus might use to approach the asylum unseen.
Now though, they were swinging around back, in the direction of the gulley that led to Methos' underground 'garage', and the nature of the land was getting rougher. Methos called a halt and gulped some water before saying, "Duncan, I suggest that we loop back in *closer* to the back of the asylum. The land there is flatter."
Duncan made an annoyed sound. "The idea is to know what's out here, with our own eyes and feet."
"I can tell you what's out here," said Methos. "A whole lot of straight up and down." He gave a snort.
"Britanicus may be a military type, but few, if any, of his troops are. He'll have to use them accordingly. They'll use cover like we have out front, and in close, but they won't be mountaineering around the kind of terrain that's out here in back. I'd say that our only weak spot back here is the cave. And that I have covered. If they try to penetrate there, we'll know it...and besides, they have to find it first.
Duncan made a sour face. "That gully is a pretty prominent land feature. They're bound to get around to examining it, assuming they aren't impatient enough to come straight after us. Much as I'd like that, I don't see someone as salty as Britanicus making that mistake." He paused, thinking. "Where does that gully go? Is the stream bed completely dry?"
Methos nodded. "It's a dry fork to a stream that's wet further up. Even in this climate it's a rare year that sees enough rain to make this part of that stream run wet."
Richie was curious now as well. "How far does it go?" he asked.
"About two miles," Methos responded. "It's a gentle slope. You could handle it on your bike, or with either four wheeler. After that it ties in with the branch of the stream that comes from higher in the mountains, and flows year round. There's a logging road that parallels the stream bed after that, leading down into a bowl shaped blind valley with a small lake. The slope down to the lake is about three miles, as the crow flies, and steeper than the way up because the valley is fairly deep, but still navigable."
Duncan frowned. "You sound like you know it pretty well."
Methos shrugged. "There's some good cutthroat fishing on the lake. I camp there occasionally to get away."
Alex sighed. "So you gave up your own getaway spot to give us a fortress."
Methos grinned. "Ah, young Jedi, I have others. Besides you're too young yet to get a proper sense of perspective on it, but you will. Time is the great leveler. Land, possessions, customs, habits, fishing holes..." he sighed “...and people. If you live long enough, you'll lose them all and gain them all, many times over. When this is over I'll take you to another fishing hole I have, up in the Cascades. I've known about that one for nearly eighty years."
Duncan cleared his throat. "Before you start planning any fishing trips, let’s stick to matters at hand. Are you sure that there's no other way into that valley?"
Methos shook his head. "Not unless they have a helicopter. And that would require a lot more advance planning than they'll have time for once they get here. Britanicus had no way of knowing where he'd catch us, so that kind of tactical planning is out. No Duncan, they won't be coming in the back door through there."
Duncan sighed, then nodded. "All right, we'll skirt what we think is the terrain line beyond which we think that he won't go. I just hope that you're right. Otherwise we're going to get a nasty surprise."
"You need to learn to relax," said Methos with a laugh. "It's quiet out here, and choppers are noisy. If he does pull one out of the hat, it *won't* catch us by surprise, believe me."
Duncan looked disgusted. "Okay, you've made your point old man. Let's step on it then. I want to get this done by six o'clock or so, otherwise the ladies won't wait dinner on us."
Richie grimaced. "If Amanda's cooking, that might be a good thing. She can do a good job, sometimes. And other times you're risking your life finding out whether she has or not."
That brought a round of tension relieving laughter as they spread out and moved off, following the edge of the rough terrain behind the asylum. Duncan was still worried though. In situations like theirs, sometimes the worst things that can happen aren't really surprises at all. They're the things that you know about. That you've anticipated. But which you cannot prevent from happening. They are the stuff that nightmares are made of.
The home of Joe Dawson.......6:00 PM
Joe was seated at his desk, reviewing pool of personnel available for the operation that they had underway, when he sighed deeply and closed his laptop. He leaned back in the chair and, rubbing his face and running his hands through his hair, he stared at the ceiling with a contemplative look on his face...thinking. He regretted intensely the need to ship the DuQuesne girl out. She might have been young, but she was among the best of the current generation. However, it couldn't be helped. He'd needed to mollify the old guard somewhat. The oldsters wanted Britanicus gone, because he was mucking up their orderly Watcher world with his antics. The younger
Watchers wanted him gone on general principle. Good versus evil. But Joe wanted him gone for personal reasons. The sonofabitch was coming to kill some friends of his. And where he'd only, for the most part, bent some rules before..... this time he wasn't going to quibble. He would do whatever he had to, whatever he could. As such, he'd need a lot of good will from his peers before this was all over.
The phone rang, and he picked it up. "Hello?"
"What's this about you shipping my niece back East?" came a lightly accented growl.
Joe grimaced. "Hello to you too Marc. Yes, I did. She was getting 'personal' about her principal."
Marc DuQuesne gave a loud snort. "Like that should matter to you?"
Joe sighed. "Politics Marc, politics. It doesn't matter to me, but it matters to others, who may be in a position to impact what happens here in the next few days. Britanicus has *got - to - go*."
DuQuesne was silent for a moment. "You're going to intervene." It wasn't a question. It was a statement.
Dawson temporized. "I didn't say that."
DuQuesne smiled into the phone at his end. "You wouldn't, even if it were true. You couldn't.." He paused. "Just like I'm not calling right now to tell you that my people confirm that Britanicus is on the ground at Sea-Tac, and his last group of scum will be landing in thirty minutes." Marc was nominally Joe's subordinate, but the Canadian branch of North America's Watcher community had long been famous for its determined efforts to maintain its autonomy from its US cousins. Hence information sharing wasn't exactly...common...on an official level. And Britanicus was Marc's territory. Unofficially though was another matter
Joe frowned. "You're flying down?"
DuQuesne chuckled. "We're already in the air. God bless air charters. We'll be landing in an hour. I take it that you can put us up for the weekend?"
"I'll tell my secretary to notify the housing people," Joe said with a laugh. "How many?"
"Fifteen," DuQuesne responded. "That's three less than there should be, but I've reassigned some people already. A lot of that bunch won't live through this weekend, and they're all going to be in more or less one place anyway. Why waste manpower?"
Joe nodded to himself. He'd reached the same conclusions, though for different reasons. He had the Watchers in the field taking shifts. Two to a shift, on four hour rotations. It kept them from getting stale. He also had a sizable reserve ready to move into position when the two opposing forces finally moved into all out conflict. This combat would be covered like no other had been in Watcher history.
"Then we see eye to eye," Joe answered. "I'll see you around nine o'clock, Marc? Late dinner?"
DuQuesne chuckled. "I wouldn't miss it. See you in three hours, after we get settled in."
Joe hung up the phone and sat there for a long moment, his elbows on the desk, his fingers steepled. Then he opened a drawer and reached far into it, towards the back where a false panel slid aside, and emerged with a cell phone. A cheap pre-paid model, purchased through a third party. Joe thumbed a preprogrammed number and waited while it rang. When the phone picked up Dawson waited until the recording wound down and at the beep he simply said, "Good luck." Then he hung up the phone and tossed it back in it's hiding place.
Now, all he could do was plan for contingencies, and wait. Flipping the laptop open, he paused long enough to call his secretary and get him started on finding Marc and his people a roof to sleep under and then he set to work again. After the personnel issues were settled, he had reams of routine nonsense to wade through.
Time was growing short.
Bear Run Asylum......Same time
Duncan and the others were eating dinner when a small piece of electronic hardware in his pocket, a gift from Joe the other day, began to vibrate. Pulling it out he read the message and looked grim. His friends noticed. Looking at curious faces he saw no reason to be coy. He held up the pager. "Joe gave this to me days ago, with the understanding that he'd try to use it to feed me anything that he thought I ought to know. He just sent me the words 'good luck'. That means that some unwelcome guests are officially in town now. Which means that no one goes outside unaccompanied until this is over and only in an emergency, and under no circumstances do you get out of sight of the person on watch." Richie was on watch with Alex for company, so both women were at dinner with them. "Sorry ladies. You're stuck with the chemical toilets from now on."
Amanda looked pained. "I don't have to like it though, and I don't. The next time something like this happens, we fort up in the penthouse at the Hilton. Got that?"
Methos chuckled as Duncan grinned and said, "It beats getting your head lopped off, doesn't it?"
Amanda wore a sour look. "Not by much it doesn't. Laugh it up you guys. See if I fix breakfast in the morning...assuming that we're alive in the morning."
"Relax grandma," Methos chimed in. "They'll take tonight to get themselves together. Tomorrow they'll fan out to our private residences for a little B&E. Once they discover that we aren't there, they'll check out here. I'd say tomorrow afternoon at the earliest."
Duncan nodded. "I agree, but none of us sitting here have lived this long by taking stupid chances. As of now we act as if they're knocking at the door." Looking around the group he saw three deadly serious faces, in total agreement.
Cassandra spoke. "Are we going to let the boys know?"
Duncan frowned then shrugged. "I'll handle it, right now. I'll see you in a few minutes." He stood up and took a bite of his dwindling sandwich. Chewing and swallowing he turned and walked upstairs to inform Richie and Alex that company was coming to call.
The others continued eating, but the easy banter that had been going on previously was noticeably missing.
Things had just gotten too serious for it.
The Sea-Tac Airport Radisson Hotel.....7:30 PM
Britanicus was sitting on the balcony of the VIP suite when Joachim and Andres walked out to join him.
"Sire?" said Joachim. "We knocked, but you didn't answer."
Britanicus started slightly. He'd been reliving the old days again. More and more lately he was living in the past. It wasn't a good sign. And it allowed him to be taken by surprise more often than he liked. Which irritated him somewhat.
"Didn't you take that as an indication that I didn't want to be disturbed?" he snapped.
Joachim shuffled and stared at his feet, while Andres jumped in and said, "Your 'do not disturb' sign wasn't on the door knob so we assumed that..."
Rather than debate it Britanicus simply waved it off. "Yes, yes, I understand. Now, what do you want?"
Joachim looked up and saw that his employer was willing to listen. "The men have settled in, but they're getting antsy already. We were wondering if there was time for some field work before 'lights out', just to let them burn off some tension."
"Field work?" Britanicus said slowly, as if testing the flavor of the words. "What exactly did you have in mind?"
"Just some busy work. Simple two man recon teams," said Joachim. "Nothing fancy, just go, look, and come back. No break ins yet."
Britanicus suddenly felt weary of it all, and that frightened him. He'd never felt like this at the beginning of a campaign. "Yes, go ahead, do it. And be sure that they understand...no break ins. If they violate my orders, I'll kill them myself. As insurance against that, I want one of each pair to be one of the more responsible types." He frowned at his two subordinates. "I'm making you both responsible for this."
The two men glanced at each other. They really hadn't expected anything less. "Yes, Sire," they said simultaneously, then backed away and left.
Once he heard the suite door closing Britanicus relaxed again, and looked out at a cityscape that suddenly looked like every other cityscape that he'd ever seen. Yes, buildings were taller and technology had improved, but it was still just another urban clot of swarming humanity. Like London, Ankara, Peking, or Rome. He sighed deeply. "Is this what it comes down to in the end? Is this how we die? When the ennui finally catches up with us?" He shook his head and took a cleansing breath. Tomorrow would be a new day. He would feel better then.
There was a knock at the door. This time he heard it. That would be room service with his supper. Rising he went to answer the door. He would eat, then sleep, and tomorrow the hunt would begin.
Outside the city hummed. Going on about it's business, unaware the drama that would shortly play out in the hills above it.
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.
STILL YOURS - Part 18e
(Irresistible Forces and Immovable Objects)
Rest Area, South of Sante Fe, New Mexico......4:00 PM
The motor home's engine didn't even have time to get cold, before the Jim Valenti's plain SUV rolled in next to it and stopped. Liz, Max, and Isabel were off stretching their legs, and getting a look the facilities, leaving Brody at the RV, along with Michael, who was still engrossed in the television. He had ESPN on now, though for a while there he'd been watching a cooking show, of all things. This had reminded Brody of the ostensible reason for Michael being along, and he smiled as he got out of the driver's seat to go out and greet their friends. “Maybe I wasn't so far off the mark at that,” he thought.
Jim, Amy, and the kids were already out of the truck and stretching to get the kinks out. Jim tossed Kyle the keys. "You and Maria might as well move your stuff over to the motor home now, while we're all here."
Kyle groaned, but he could see the sense. Still, what he really wanted was a long walk to loosen his muscles before he got in that motor home. "'Kay Dad," he paused, "Maria, you coming?"
Maria's eyes were on the motor home as she nervously twisted the solitaire on her finger. She could sense that Michael was there. "Huh…what? Can't that wait?"
Amy chuckled indulgently. She knew her daughter and Michael well enough by now to know what was ailing Maria. "Go on Honey, talk to him. Jim and I will help Kyle with your stuff."
Maria traded eye contact with her mother and smiled. It was funny, but now that she was engaged to her surly alien, her mother came off less like the enemy, and more like an ally. Was it her mother that had changed? Or her perception of her mother? Or, perhaps some of both? "Thanks Mom, I shouldn't be too long," and added under her breath, "I hope."
Leaving the others, with Brody emerging from the motor home to talk to Jim and her mother, while a muttering Kyle moved both his stuff *and* hers to the RV's cargo compartment, she went to the door, opened it, and climbed aboard. She already knew where he was. Approaching him from behind she tentatively reached out to touch his shoulder, and halted just short of contact.
"~Michael?~"
He didn't answer, though he shifted slightly in his seat.
"~Michael, please?~" she said, plaintively this time.
A deep shudder ran through Michael's shoulders, accompanied by a matching one through the connection. He flipped off the television decisively, pulled the headphones off, dropped them, and swiveled his seat to reach out with his hands and grasp her waist. She only stiffened for a moment as he drew her to him gently, but irresistibly, and buried his face in her midriff, rubbing gently. Maria shivered as the tactile sensations brought on by his actions fell on her senses like rain on long dried ground.
"It's amazing," she thought, "the closer that we get, the more dependent that we become on each other. A few hours with the connection damped down felt like centuries. A week ago that would have scared me to death. Now I think that it's what I've been missing all my life." She was puzzled though. The connection was still mostly closed. She could feel it though, there, trembling with potential. "Michael?" she queried aloud, as she prodded gently with her mind.
The dam broke. Maria's arms had been resting lightly on his shoulders. Now they tightened convulsively, and Michael's arms around her waist matched her own grip as an avalanche of pent up emotions stream into her, washing around them both like a torrent. Love, loss, fear, and above all else, embarrassment...they washed around and through Maria, leaving her gasping, and weeping softly. "~Micheal? What is it? What's thematter?~” Then she felt him, pushing softly with his mind.... like he was initiating... like he wanted her to know...and Maria yielded without a second thought, earth tremors be damned.
**FUSION**
It was awake, but without a mission of consequence. It studied the time base for the last few hours in the minds of Its constituents and realized why It was here. The realization caused the equivalent of a disgusted snort. Borrowing from the pop culture section of the maria’s mind It thought, "What am I...Doctor Phil?" Given the volatile natures of Its constituents, It got the impression that It may be awakened like this a *lot* in the years to come. It sighed internally, if somewhat fondly...."Composite, the marriage counselor, that's me,".... and returned to sleep.
**FISSION**
Maria returned to herself still wrapped in Michael's arms, and acutely aware of him. Had they been truly alone, she'd have taken him on the spot. He'd taken the direct route to letting her understand, by throwing himself open to her. So she would know. So that they wouldn't have to stumble towards understanding what was going on between them.
Michael's ego was still easily bruised. And he over-compensated for his self-esteem issues by being overbearing at times. With everyone's...and especially Maria's...help, he was getting better about the overbearing part, but that low self-esteem that caused it was still there, and still festering. When Maria had run him off, he'd been hurt. He'd responded by shutting down. Before the connection, it had been easy to avoid her. Now it was impossible. Worse, the connection had so changed him that, he didn't want to. He needed her like he needed air to breathe. And the feeling was mutual. But, by the time this realization had hit him, he'd been in shut down mode for so long that he was afraid of her reaction should he open up again, and he was embarrassed by his own weakness and self-doubt.
Maria stroked his unkempt hair softly. "~If you're going to doubt yourself Michael, okay. We'll deal with that a little at a time. The same goes for doubting me. But, Spaceboy, the one thing that you will always be able to depend on is love. Our love. Yours and mine. You've just had living proof that our whole is greater than the sum of its parts. That proves that we were meant to be. You don't *ever* have to doubt *us*. Whatever the years bring. Whatever fights we have. Whatever unkind things are said, and forgiven, you'll never have reason to doubt *us* again.~"
Michael shuddered again. "I know," he said out loud. "Or I should... I just felt..."
"Stupid?" Maria finished for him.
Michael winced. "Yeah, I guess so."
"Well don't," Maria turned his face up and kissed him. "You were just being human. Welcome to Earth," she finished with a smirk.
Michael winced again. "~How many human men can blow things up and converse telepathically with their significant other? What happens one day if *you* start having power incidents like Liz and Kyle are?~"
Maria shrugged. "~So what? After you, do you think that I'd settle for normal? A normal human guy would bore me to death in a week...less even. And as for the powers, I can imagine all sorts of things that they'd be handy for...like reminding my husband of when it's his turn to get up to feed the baby.~"
Michael flushed and grinned. "~Getting a little ahead of yourself there, aren't you?~"
Maria leaned in and purred. "~Actually, that's pretty close to what I had in mind...~" and she was cut off as the door opened and Kyle's voice rolled into the motor home.
"Okay, you two have had enough time to kiss and make up. Liz, Max, and Isabel are back, and I'm starving. Let's find a restaurant, like now!" he bellowed. "Maria, you owe me for moving your crap over to the RV. Move it you two!" Behind him they could here Liz and Max...laughing.
Maria kissed him, a promise for later, then pulled Michael to his feet, and dragged him after her. Emerging from the RV they saw that it was only Kyle, Max, and Liz.
"Where are the others? Where's my mom?" asked Maria.
Kyle jerked his thumb over his shoulder, and she followed the indicated line of sight to see the adults and Isabel not too far away, but getting further with every step as they headed towards a cluster of buildings that looked to be fast food joints.
"They got tired of waiting and headed for chow," he said, "which is something that I'd suggest that we do too, and pronto. I have no idea what Brody has this bus of his stocked with, food-wise, but I'm not counting on it for either quantity or variety. What we eat now will most likely have to hold us until breakfast tomorrow. So, let's haul ass, and don't forget the doggie bags." So saying he turned abruptly and took off after the others, leaving the two couples to trail along behind more slowly.
Maria frowned at Liz. "What was the idea with the laughter? You find it *that* funny that Kyle broke in on... well... he broke in.... on what he broke in on?"
Liz's eyes glinted merrily, and her soul mate wasn't far behind her. "You bet. Maria do you have any idea how many times in the last two years you've managed to 'interrupt' Max and me? Do you?" Her smile broadened. "Privately we took to calling it 'Maria-Interruptus'. I know that both of us were half expecting you to show up the other afternoon when we... er... well we were expecting you to show up and offer advice, or condoms, or
something."
Max laughed outright and said, "So turnabout...."
"...is fair play," Liz finished.
Maria flushed. "I haven't been *that* bad."
Max shook his head, and smiled to take the sting out of his words. "Sorry, but you have. I used to think that you had some sort of super powers yourself. Some sort precognition that let you know exactly when and where to be at the right times to mess with our love life."
Michael snorted, tried to contain himself and then started laughing outright. He couldn't even stop when Maria thumped him on the chest; he simply backed away and kept laughing. Maria pursued, and they ended up running across the parking lot with Michael in the lead, even though he was hampered by his laughter, and a with a half furious Maria in pursuit. Leaving Max and Liz to follow sedately behind, hand in hand…which, of
course, suited them just fine.
Vicinity of Bear Run......4:30 PM
"She was in your head while you were drunk?" Richie's voice floated through the forest, accompanied by the crunching of leaves, and the occasional muffled curse. "Oh you poor slob." He chuckled. "The potential for mayhem almost makes up for the taser that you hit me with."
"It isn't funny Richie," Alex shot back in a panicked tone. "I don't remember everything, but God only knows what she saw in there! You do NOT want Isabel Evans pissed at you."
This brought a round of laughter from the entire party.
The reconnaissance party was made up of Duncan, Methos, Richie, and Alex. They were all hot and sweaty, but Duncan kept pushing to make a complete sweep of the area. The land in the direction of the interstate, while not flat, was only modestly rolling. So exploration there had been quick and easy, but thorough. Duncan wanted to know every depression and every piece of cover that Britanicus might use to approach the asylum unseen.
Now though, they were swinging around back, in the direction of the gulley that led to Methos' underground 'garage', and the nature of the land was getting rougher. Methos called a halt and gulped some water before saying, "Duncan, I suggest that we loop back in *closer* to the back of the asylum. The land there is flatter."
Duncan made an annoyed sound. "The idea is to know what's out here, with our own eyes and feet."
"I can tell you what's out here," said Methos. "A whole lot of straight up and down." He gave a snort.
"Britanicus may be a military type, but few, if any, of his troops are. He'll have to use them accordingly. They'll use cover like we have out front, and in close, but they won't be mountaineering around the kind of terrain that's out here in back. I'd say that our only weak spot back here is the cave. And that I have covered. If they try to penetrate there, we'll know it...and besides, they have to find it first.
Duncan made a sour face. "That gully is a pretty prominent land feature. They're bound to get around to examining it, assuming they aren't impatient enough to come straight after us. Much as I'd like that, I don't see someone as salty as Britanicus making that mistake." He paused, thinking. "Where does that gully go? Is the stream bed completely dry?"
Methos nodded. "It's a dry fork to a stream that's wet further up. Even in this climate it's a rare year that sees enough rain to make this part of that stream run wet."
Richie was curious now as well. "How far does it go?" he asked.
"About two miles," Methos responded. "It's a gentle slope. You could handle it on your bike, or with either four wheeler. After that it ties in with the branch of the stream that comes from higher in the mountains, and flows year round. There's a logging road that parallels the stream bed after that, leading down into a bowl shaped blind valley with a small lake. The slope down to the lake is about three miles, as the crow flies, and steeper than the way up because the valley is fairly deep, but still navigable."
Duncan frowned. "You sound like you know it pretty well."
Methos shrugged. "There's some good cutthroat fishing on the lake. I camp there occasionally to get away."
Alex sighed. "So you gave up your own getaway spot to give us a fortress."
Methos grinned. "Ah, young Jedi, I have others. Besides you're too young yet to get a proper sense of perspective on it, but you will. Time is the great leveler. Land, possessions, customs, habits, fishing holes..." he sighed “...and people. If you live long enough, you'll lose them all and gain them all, many times over. When this is over I'll take you to another fishing hole I have, up in the Cascades. I've known about that one for nearly eighty years."
Duncan cleared his throat. "Before you start planning any fishing trips, let’s stick to matters at hand. Are you sure that there's no other way into that valley?"
Methos shook his head. "Not unless they have a helicopter. And that would require a lot more advance planning than they'll have time for once they get here. Britanicus had no way of knowing where he'd catch us, so that kind of tactical planning is out. No Duncan, they won't be coming in the back door through there."
Duncan sighed, then nodded. "All right, we'll skirt what we think is the terrain line beyond which we think that he won't go. I just hope that you're right. Otherwise we're going to get a nasty surprise."
"You need to learn to relax," said Methos with a laugh. "It's quiet out here, and choppers are noisy. If he does pull one out of the hat, it *won't* catch us by surprise, believe me."
Duncan looked disgusted. "Okay, you've made your point old man. Let's step on it then. I want to get this done by six o'clock or so, otherwise the ladies won't wait dinner on us."
Richie grimaced. "If Amanda's cooking, that might be a good thing. She can do a good job, sometimes. And other times you're risking your life finding out whether she has or not."
That brought a round of tension relieving laughter as they spread out and moved off, following the edge of the rough terrain behind the asylum. Duncan was still worried though. In situations like theirs, sometimes the worst things that can happen aren't really surprises at all. They're the things that you know about. That you've anticipated. But which you cannot prevent from happening. They are the stuff that nightmares are made of.
The home of Joe Dawson.......6:00 PM
Joe was seated at his desk, reviewing pool of personnel available for the operation that they had underway, when he sighed deeply and closed his laptop. He leaned back in the chair and, rubbing his face and running his hands through his hair, he stared at the ceiling with a contemplative look on his face...thinking. He regretted intensely the need to ship the DuQuesne girl out. She might have been young, but she was among the best of the current generation. However, it couldn't be helped. He'd needed to mollify the old guard somewhat. The oldsters wanted Britanicus gone, because he was mucking up their orderly Watcher world with his antics. The younger
Watchers wanted him gone on general principle. Good versus evil. But Joe wanted him gone for personal reasons. The sonofabitch was coming to kill some friends of his. And where he'd only, for the most part, bent some rules before..... this time he wasn't going to quibble. He would do whatever he had to, whatever he could. As such, he'd need a lot of good will from his peers before this was all over.
The phone rang, and he picked it up. "Hello?"
"What's this about you shipping my niece back East?" came a lightly accented growl.
Joe grimaced. "Hello to you too Marc. Yes, I did. She was getting 'personal' about her principal."
Marc DuQuesne gave a loud snort. "Like that should matter to you?"
Joe sighed. "Politics Marc, politics. It doesn't matter to me, but it matters to others, who may be in a position to impact what happens here in the next few days. Britanicus has *got - to - go*."
DuQuesne was silent for a moment. "You're going to intervene." It wasn't a question. It was a statement.
Dawson temporized. "I didn't say that."
DuQuesne smiled into the phone at his end. "You wouldn't, even if it were true. You couldn't.." He paused. "Just like I'm not calling right now to tell you that my people confirm that Britanicus is on the ground at Sea-Tac, and his last group of scum will be landing in thirty minutes." Marc was nominally Joe's subordinate, but the Canadian branch of North America's Watcher community had long been famous for its determined efforts to maintain its autonomy from its US cousins. Hence information sharing wasn't exactly...common...on an official level. And Britanicus was Marc's territory. Unofficially though was another matter
Joe frowned. "You're flying down?"
DuQuesne chuckled. "We're already in the air. God bless air charters. We'll be landing in an hour. I take it that you can put us up for the weekend?"
"I'll tell my secretary to notify the housing people," Joe said with a laugh. "How many?"
"Fifteen," DuQuesne responded. "That's three less than there should be, but I've reassigned some people already. A lot of that bunch won't live through this weekend, and they're all going to be in more or less one place anyway. Why waste manpower?"
Joe nodded to himself. He'd reached the same conclusions, though for different reasons. He had the Watchers in the field taking shifts. Two to a shift, on four hour rotations. It kept them from getting stale. He also had a sizable reserve ready to move into position when the two opposing forces finally moved into all out conflict. This combat would be covered like no other had been in Watcher history.
"Then we see eye to eye," Joe answered. "I'll see you around nine o'clock, Marc? Late dinner?"
DuQuesne chuckled. "I wouldn't miss it. See you in three hours, after we get settled in."
Joe hung up the phone and sat there for a long moment, his elbows on the desk, his fingers steepled. Then he opened a drawer and reached far into it, towards the back where a false panel slid aside, and emerged with a cell phone. A cheap pre-paid model, purchased through a third party. Joe thumbed a preprogrammed number and waited while it rang. When the phone picked up Dawson waited until the recording wound down and at the beep he simply said, "Good luck." Then he hung up the phone and tossed it back in it's hiding place.
Now, all he could do was plan for contingencies, and wait. Flipping the laptop open, he paused long enough to call his secretary and get him started on finding Marc and his people a roof to sleep under and then he set to work again. After the personnel issues were settled, he had reams of routine nonsense to wade through.
Time was growing short.
Bear Run Asylum......Same time
Duncan and the others were eating dinner when a small piece of electronic hardware in his pocket, a gift from Joe the other day, began to vibrate. Pulling it out he read the message and looked grim. His friends noticed. Looking at curious faces he saw no reason to be coy. He held up the pager. "Joe gave this to me days ago, with the understanding that he'd try to use it to feed me anything that he thought I ought to know. He just sent me the words 'good luck'. That means that some unwelcome guests are officially in town now. Which means that no one goes outside unaccompanied until this is over and only in an emergency, and under no circumstances do you get out of sight of the person on watch." Richie was on watch with Alex for company, so both women were at dinner with them. "Sorry ladies. You're stuck with the chemical toilets from now on."
Amanda looked pained. "I don't have to like it though, and I don't. The next time something like this happens, we fort up in the penthouse at the Hilton. Got that?"
Methos chuckled as Duncan grinned and said, "It beats getting your head lopped off, doesn't it?"
Amanda wore a sour look. "Not by much it doesn't. Laugh it up you guys. See if I fix breakfast in the morning...assuming that we're alive in the morning."
"Relax grandma," Methos chimed in. "They'll take tonight to get themselves together. Tomorrow they'll fan out to our private residences for a little B&E. Once they discover that we aren't there, they'll check out here. I'd say tomorrow afternoon at the earliest."
Duncan nodded. "I agree, but none of us sitting here have lived this long by taking stupid chances. As of now we act as if they're knocking at the door." Looking around the group he saw three deadly serious faces, in total agreement.
Cassandra spoke. "Are we going to let the boys know?"
Duncan frowned then shrugged. "I'll handle it, right now. I'll see you in a few minutes." He stood up and took a bite of his dwindling sandwich. Chewing and swallowing he turned and walked upstairs to inform Richie and Alex that company was coming to call.
The others continued eating, but the easy banter that had been going on previously was noticeably missing.
Things had just gotten too serious for it.
The Sea-Tac Airport Radisson Hotel.....7:30 PM
Britanicus was sitting on the balcony of the VIP suite when Joachim and Andres walked out to join him.
"Sire?" said Joachim. "We knocked, but you didn't answer."
Britanicus started slightly. He'd been reliving the old days again. More and more lately he was living in the past. It wasn't a good sign. And it allowed him to be taken by surprise more often than he liked. Which irritated him somewhat.
"Didn't you take that as an indication that I didn't want to be disturbed?" he snapped.
Joachim shuffled and stared at his feet, while Andres jumped in and said, "Your 'do not disturb' sign wasn't on the door knob so we assumed that..."
Rather than debate it Britanicus simply waved it off. "Yes, yes, I understand. Now, what do you want?"
Joachim looked up and saw that his employer was willing to listen. "The men have settled in, but they're getting antsy already. We were wondering if there was time for some field work before 'lights out', just to let them burn off some tension."
"Field work?" Britanicus said slowly, as if testing the flavor of the words. "What exactly did you have in mind?"
"Just some busy work. Simple two man recon teams," said Joachim. "Nothing fancy, just go, look, and come back. No break ins yet."
Britanicus suddenly felt weary of it all, and that frightened him. He'd never felt like this at the beginning of a campaign. "Yes, go ahead, do it. And be sure that they understand...no break ins. If they violate my orders, I'll kill them myself. As insurance against that, I want one of each pair to be one of the more responsible types." He frowned at his two subordinates. "I'm making you both responsible for this."
The two men glanced at each other. They really hadn't expected anything less. "Yes, Sire," they said simultaneously, then backed away and left.
Once he heard the suite door closing Britanicus relaxed again, and looked out at a cityscape that suddenly looked like every other cityscape that he'd ever seen. Yes, buildings were taller and technology had improved, but it was still just another urban clot of swarming humanity. Like London, Ankara, Peking, or Rome. He sighed deeply. "Is this what it comes down to in the end? Is this how we die? When the ennui finally catches up with us?" He shook his head and took a cleansing breath. Tomorrow would be a new day. He would feel better then.
There was a knock at the door. This time he heard it. That would be room service with his supper. Rising he went to answer the door. He would eat, then sleep, and tomorrow the hunt would begin.
Outside the city hummed. Going on about it's business, unaware the drama that would shortly play out in the hills above it.
Last edited by Kzinti_Killer on Wed Apr 20, 2005 3:47 am, edited 1 time in total.
Dragons, Ogres, & Pretty Boy Lawyers Slain, Reasonable Rates, Call After 5:00 At 1-900-OhMyGodWhatWereTheyThinkingOf
"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
-- Henry Jenkins
"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
-- Henry Jenkins
-
Kzinti_Killer
- Administrator
- Posts: 1019
- Joined: Fri Feb 22, 2002 6:44 am
- Location: High Reaches Weyr, Northern Pern
Title: Still Yours
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.
STILL YOURS - Part 18f
(Irresistible Forces and Immovable Objects)
Happy Traveler's Campground, Monument, Colorado....8:30 PM
Isabel was furious. "I can't believe that we've stopped here for the night! We should have gotten a hell of a lot further today," she ranted in a low but intense voice as the group gathered around the fire pit outside the motor home.
Giving lie to Kyle's supposition about Brody's supply situation, Michael was grilling hamburgers over a charcoal fire, and baking potatoes and corn along the edge of the coals, while the group was sipping their soft drinks of choice. Brody was in the motor home with Jim and Amy, where they were sipping on something a good deal more potent than soft drinks. They needed it. Once they'd crossed into Colorado on I-25 they'd begun to hit road construction, a lot of it. The result was an afternoon long nightmare of orange barrel gridlock, detours, and frayed tempers. At one point a few hours earlier, while they were waiting for a piece of laggard earth moving equipment to get off of the road, something had finally snapped inside of Isabel, and they'd thought that they were going to have to physically restrain her from getting out of the RV and blasting any obstacles out of their way. Their intention had been to drive flat out until 10:00 that night, grabbing takeout food to tide them over. But their lack of progress and worn tempers had finally gotten the better of them. It had been decided that they would stop early, sleep early, and get on the road in the morning before the traffic got bad. Inside, the adults were online, on the phone, and using maps; pulling in every available resource, even using Jim's clout as a law enforcement officer, to get information of just how bad things were ahead. And they were examining what alternate routes they could take.
Isabel was pacing like a caged animal. "Look, I have a credit card. Just let me out at Denver Airport, and I'll fly on ahead....."
"No," snapped Max; his own temper a little worn, "absolutely not. We have only the vaguest idea of what we're walking into, but we know damn well that it's dangerous, deadly dangerous. So you're not going there alone. That defeats the whole line of reasoning behind this little expedition, to make sure that whatever we face, we face it together."
Isabel spun on him. "You don't own me brother, so don't try to..."
Max was ready to fire back, cutting her off when the better angel of his nature spoke. "~Let me handle it, Max?~" came Liz's voice in his mind.
Max's mouth snapped shut. "~Go ahead, you can't do any worse than I was about to.~"
Liz caught Maria's eye and jerked her head to indicate where the rest rooms lay, off in the gathering darkness of the surrounding campground. Maria frowned a moment, until Liz glanced significantly at Isabel who was still going off on her now silent brother. Maria nodded and stood up.
"~I'll be back in a little while, Spaceboy~," Maria sent to her better half. "~Liz and I are going to see if we can't chill Iz down a bit. Save me some food.~"
Michael glanced up from his cooking and winced as Isabel caught her breath and continued her rant. "~Good luck, Sweetheart. Personally I think you'd get the best results by cracking her in the head with a rock. Max could always heal her later, after we've had some peace and quiet.~"
Maria managed to maintain a straight face, but she couldn't hide her amusement. "~Watch it, Michael. We women stick together. I understand her, even if you don't. She's scared, and worried.. In her shoes I would be too. Now behave, or I'll tell her what you said.~"
Michael was paying attention to the grill now, but his mind was still on Maria, and it was broadcasting mock innocence. "~What exactly did I 'say' that you could prove, Pixie?~" he teased "~It'd be your word against mine. Who would she believe?~"
"~Me~," said Maria, smugly. "~Remember what I said? We women stick together.~"
Michael flipped burger as he sent Maria a mental kiss, and his blessing, then he dialed the connection back so as not to distract her.
Maria had maneuvered close to Isabel, and as she drew breath to add yet another stanza to the 'song' that she was singing Max, Maria laid a hand on her shoulder. "Girl friend, lets take a walk," she said.
Isabel broke off from berating Max and stared at Maria as if she'd just spoken Swahili. "What? No, I don't...."
Liz appeared at her other side. "Please Iz, let's go...for a walk."
Isabel glanced from one to the other, trying to read their intentions. After a moment she gave up and shrugged. "Okay, let's go," she said, as she glared at her still silent brother. "I'm not accomplishing anything here anyway." To which she added silently, "And besides that, I might just keep on going. I wonder how long it would take me to hitchhike into Denver?"
As the three girls walked off into the dusk, headed in the general direction of the bathrooms, Kyle heaved a sigh of relief. "Evans, if that's a sample of what you've had to deal with growing up with Isabel, my respect for you knows no bounds. Jeeez, she could blister paint at forty yards."
Max chuckled and shook his head. Kyle was clowning around again, and for once Max could really appreciate it. "She hasn't been *that* bad, Kyle...trust me. Otherwise I'd have probably smothered her in her sleep long ago."
Michael gave a snort. "Well, whatever magic they work on her, they'd better not take too long about it. The burgers will be done in about fifteen minutes. And the rest of the food, not too long after that." Silently he sent to his soul mate.... "~Soup's on in fifteen minutes, don't take too long, Maria.~"
Maria fired back. "~It takes as long as it takes, Michael. Use your whammy, or whatever, to slow things down. Now don't bother me for a while. I need to focus here. If Liz and I can't get Isabel calmed down, she might bolt.~"
Michael sighed. "~It'll be ready when you are. Just let us know if it looks like she's going to run, so we can head her off.~" He paused a moment to flip a burger, then added, "~I love you.~"
"~I love you too, Spaceboy,~" she sent back. "~I'll let you know how it goes.~"
Michael grimaced as the connection dialed down. Max noticed and grinned. "Did she give you the same 'don't bother me while I'm trying to handle Isabel' lecture that Liz just gave me?"
Michael looked uncomfortable and shrugged, trying to blow it off, but managing to draw a laugh from Max.
Michael glared at him and said "What? What's so funny?"
Max shook his head. "Oh, nothing much. I was just thinking of the way that you used to claim that *I* was whipped."
Michael's face darkened for a moment, and his mouth opened as if he were about to say something, but he stopped himself, and grinned back instead. "The old me might have something to say about that, but speaking for the new me.... I wouldn't have it any other way."
Kyle looked back and forth between the two of them and shook his head. "You guys are just pathetic, ya know that?"
Silence descended around the fireplace, as Kyle pondered the fact that he was equally pathetic when it came to a certain blonde alien, and Max and Michael both refrained from pointing out that fact, because of the pain that went with it. But, of the three, only Max couldn't help but wonder what new levels of 'whipped' Kyle would be exploring after he finally met his son or daughter.
There was no doubt in Max's mind that that day would come either, one way or another. Even though he recognized the obstacles before them, he knew that they would succeed. They would get Alex back. They would get Tess back. Kyle would see his child. And they would defeat their enemies. Together they would *make* it happen, no matter how long it took. His determination was such that he could contemplate no other outcome. Without realizing it, he was letting the 'king' show through, and he was becoming something more than that. He was becoming a man. And, though he didn't know it yet, he *was* fulfilling his destiny.
Bear Run Asylum.....................9:45 PM
Duncan had taken his turn on watch early. He was restless, too restless to settle down enough for sleep to come readily. They were completely committed to their course of action now. There was a certain freedom that went with that. They no longer had to waste their time considering alternatives. The downside was that...you no longer *had* any alternatives left to consider. Britanicus's cutthroats might or might not be watching the asylum, but he had to assume that they were. Therefore, he and his little 'family' couldn't run now, even if they wanted to, or they'd be picked off piece meal. Therefore they were committed. He paused to consider the literal meaning of those words, in light of where they'd chosen to make their stand. "Damn, are we ever committed," he mused. A scrabbling noise broke his introspective frame of mind as Alex's head popped up through the trapdoor in the guard shack floor Duncan didn't move from his position out on the guard walk as he studied his protégé.
"I'd have thought that you would have had enough of this earlier this evening," Duncan said softly.
Alex hauled himself the rest of the way up out of the trapdoor and quickly crab walked out to join Duncan. As he did so he said, "It wouldn't matter if I did. I can't sleep, and you're the only one that's still awake. There's nothing to read. I don't feel like tossing cards in a hat for a few hours, even if I had the cards and the hat to toss them in. And I'm certainly not going to risk my life by waking up one of the others to talk to, so I figured that I'd join you." To which he added silently... "I'm afraid to sleep, is more like it."
Duncan was moved again by the distinct impression that the boy was hiding something, and wondered if he ought to press the matter. Now was not the time for secrets. "So, your friends are coming," he ventured, not as a question, but as a statement.
Alex shrugged. "Probably." Then he paused and laughed silently at his own pose of indifference. "There's being fatalistic," he thought... "and then there's being stupid. This is stupid." He sighed and spoke aloud. "Yeah, if they aren't halfway here already, it's because something or someone stopped them."
Duncan's eyebrow arched. "Someone?"
Alex studied Duncan a moment, then answered, "Yes, someone. There doesn't have to be anything ominous about it though. You keep forgetting that, even though I'm an Immortal, I'm just a kid. So are they. They have parents that they'd have to deal with." He chuckled softly. "I'd have paid good money to be a fly on the wall when they broke the news to Mr. and Mrs. Parker." Seeing Duncan's quizzical look he expanded on the explanation. "My friend Liz's parents. Liz has always been the stereotype of the 'good girl'. Quiet, smart, well behaved, organized, and on the fast track to the Ivy League.......which is exactly how her parents want it." Alex shook his head ruefully. "Poor Jeff and Nancy, their hopes were doomed the moment that Max saved Liz's life."
Duncan's ears pricked up. Alex was opening up at last! To keep things going he dissembled a bit by putting off what he really wanted to ask about. "Some parents can be like that, it shows that they care. As long as they aren't overbearing about it, it's better than the other way around."
Not fooled an inch, Alex grinned. "Oh, they can be a little heavy handed about it. But then Liz's change in behavior, after Max Evans came into her life, was a quite a shock to them." He chuckled. "She might as well be married to him, right this moment, and her parents still have no idea what really happened." Now he grimaced. "That single event changed so many lives...including mine. One day they'll have to be told. And I *really* do *not* want to be around for *that* conversation."
Duncan waited a long moment, for Alex to continue, but saw that his young friend was waiting for him to ask. Sighing he said, "If you're through baiting me and beating around the bush.... what exactly *did* happen? And who is Max?"
Alex looked at him with a straight face and said, "Max saved Liz's life, and he's Isabel's brother. Liz's parents own The Crashdown Cafe. It's a tourist trap and hangout for the local high school crowd. They serve fast-food and breakfasts, with an 'alien visitors/science fiction' theme." Alex grinned. "It's ironic when you think about it. Liz and our friend Maria work there, waiting tables. Liz, Maria, and I had been tight since we were small. None of us
knew it at the time, but Max had been in love with Liz since forever, and he used to take every opportunity to see her. As it happened, he was there in the Crashdown when two out-of-town morons got into an argument that got out of hand, and one of them pulled out a gun. In the struggle, the gun went off." Alex paused, pulled up his shirt, and indicated a spot just below his ribs. "The bullet hit Liz about right there. We didn't know it right then, but the hit was fatal. She would have died, right there on the floor of her folks' diner."
Duncan was fascinated with this window into Alex's life. "So what happened? You make it sound like this wasn't a case of simple first aid."
Alex shook his head. "It wasn't. Liz was dying. Max laid his hands her.... then she wasn't dying anymore."
Duncan blinked. "I beg your pardon, but...huh?"
Alex grinned. "Max healed her. Poof. No more bullet, and no more bullet hole."
Duncan blinked. Cass had been right it seemed, though he'd have to discuss it with her, because this sounded like it went way beyond the abilities that she'd mentioned. Natural talents. And not in just one, but an entire cluster of them. "How?" he asked.
Alex shrugged, and then grinned. "Voodoo? Hocus pocus? Who knows? They called it 'manipulating molecular structures'. Max, Isabel, Maria's boyfriend Michael, and...." Alex's mouth twisted "....Tess all had the ability. Liz kept it from Maria and I for a while until events started to get out of hand, and she was forced to tell us. I remember when they let me in on the big secret, I demanded proof from Isabel. Right in the middle of the restaurant, she checked to see if anyone was looking at us, then she reached out and caressed a bottle of ketchup ....and turned the contents into mustard."
Shaking his head like a punch drunk fighter, Duncan tried to clear it. Now that Alex was talking, he didn't know what to make of what he was hearing. Immortal or not, every now and then something would come along that would tax even his credulity. "So that's what they do? Change the composition of things? Lead into gold? Water into wine?"
Alex shook his head. "Call that one of their 'standard features'. They each had extras that went with it. All of them could heal...a little. But I got the impression that only Max could really pull off the big time 'drag someone back from the edge of the grave' stuff. Liz isn't the only friend of ours that's walking around today thanks to Max, as opposed to pushing up daisies. Max could also generate a shield that could stop people....or bullets. Isabel's powers ran to the Dream Walk, and altering colors on clothing and make up.... though she was quite capable of blowing something, or someone to smithereens if the occasion called for it. And you haven't lived until you've seen her play a CD... without a CD player." Alex's mouth twisted. "Michael was our problem child. He spent years falling through the cracks of the foster care system. He's had control issues all his life, both of himself, his environment, and his powers. Basically he was the proverbial loose cannon on deck, and literally a telekinetic
howitzer."
Duncan frowned. "You said Michael 'was'... as in past tense. Is he dead?"
Alex chuckled aloud. "No, no, he's just a changed man. Thanks to my friend Maria's inability to take 'no' for an answer, once she's settled on the man of her choice. Those two defined the phrase 'stormy courtship'."
"She sounds like a girl after Amanda's heart," Duncan said as he let out a soft chuckle. Then his face darkened. What about the... other one.... Tess?"
Alex grimaced. "She was a late addition; an outsider and an enigma of sorts. No one really trusted her, because when she first showed up she was always trying to separate us... the normal humans from those who weren't...normal. She wanted Max, and resented the hell out of the fact that Liz got there first. The fact that her guardian encouraged her attitude didn't help things either. As far as he was concerned, we were lower than pond scum." Alex's features assumed a puzzled look. "Towards the end there I thought she was actually coming around. I never would have believed....," he trailed off, and shook his head vigorously to clear it. "Anyway, aside from the standard features, she had mind warp. *That* was something that I already told you about. She could make you believe things that weren't true, or see things that weren't there. And though I didn't see it, at least once I understand that she was able to create...er, do... well the best I can label it is pyro-kinesis."
Duncan's eyebrows rose. "Run that by me again?"
"Thought driven napalm," Alex said helpfully, then by way of explanation he added, "It was an emergency situation. From the description that my friends gave me it sounded like something on the order of hysterical strength. As far as they know she was never able to do it again, that they knew of."
Duncan frowned. "Your friends sound like they lead rough lives."
Alex's mouth twisted slightly. "Not by their choice," he answered, with an accompanying half shrug. "They'd just as soon be left alone. They didn't ask to be..." he trailed off.
"Be what?" Duncan prodded, leaning forward slightly.
"What they are," Alex answered looking uncertain. "Look Duncan, when Cassandra pulled her whammy on us, Isabel had just talked me into spilling the beans to you. Full exposure. She was going to do the same at her end. By now they can't avoid knowing what I told Isabel...but..." Alex halted again and winced at the impatient snort that Duncan gave. "They'll be here soon enough, and if we're all still alive, they can tell you their own story far better than I could. To quote my friend Liz, back when I was trying to squeeze the truth out of *her*, 'it's not my secret to tell'. And what I've told you is just the tip of a very big iceberg."
Duncan studied his young friend for a long moment and then he looked away as the sound of thrashing in the dark brush surrounding the asylum reached them. He brought the night vision gear that Methos had given him back down to his eyes and began a slow scan of the surrounding terrain. There was a distant squeal, and Duncan made a dour sounding grunt before pushing the night goggles back up on his forehead. "Some owl collecting a rabbit dinner," he said and then he returned to his study of his student. After a moment he sighed. "All right Alex, I guess that we can live with that," Duncan said, with a wry smile. His Scottish brogue rarely showed anymore, but a hint of it was showing now. "I've always known, from the moment that Methos and Cass dragged you into my dojo, that you had a streak of honor a mile wide. Today, many people treat that like it's a character flaw." Duncan paused. "I don't." Then he cocked his head as he caught his protégé in mid yawn. "It looks like
the sandman is catching up to you. You'd better hit the hay."
Alex looked flustered. "I can last a while longer, if you don't mind the company."
Duncan picked up on the tone in his young friend's voice, looked up sharply, and read Alex exactly right. "Oh, I don't mind company, but I'm wondering if it should be me that we're discussing in that regard," he said, smirking slightly.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Alex answered, with as much dignity as he could summon. Then he yawned again.
Duncan shook his head, his smirk broadening a little, and taking on a hint of malicious intent. "You're hiding, that's what you're doing. I just realized that, if what you told us about your drunken dreams while we were out hiking today is true, then I imagine that your dream walking better half has a bone to pick with you, which you would as soon avoid for as long as possible. Am I getting warm?"
"I wouldn't know," Alex said, trying to blow it off....but Duncan wasn't buying what his young friend was trying to sell.
"Go to bed Alex," Duncan said firmly. "We'll need you sharp for tomorrow. What's the most that she could do to you? At worst it'll only sting for a little while." Duncan grinned outright. "Take it like a man."
Alex gave another jaw cracking yawn, which kind of ruined his shot at looking indignant. "That's easy enough for you to say. Just bear it in mind if she happens to be pissed at *you* when she arrives." Alex grinned back at Duncan's sudden discomfort, then withdrew to the guard shack and began to climb down the ladder. Before he dropped out of sight he winked and said, "Sweet dreams, Duncan." But the stentorian yawn that followed ruined the effect.
Duncan was left alone with his thoughts. They were still troubled and restless, but in a different and less stressful direction. 'What's the most that she could do to you?' Duncan had asked. In about an hour Isabel Evans would redefine the meaning of the word 'most' for him, in ways that neither he or Alex, nor any of their friends, had ever imagined.
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.
STILL YOURS - Part 18f
(Irresistible Forces and Immovable Objects)
Happy Traveler's Campground, Monument, Colorado....8:30 PM
Isabel was furious. "I can't believe that we've stopped here for the night! We should have gotten a hell of a lot further today," she ranted in a low but intense voice as the group gathered around the fire pit outside the motor home.
Giving lie to Kyle's supposition about Brody's supply situation, Michael was grilling hamburgers over a charcoal fire, and baking potatoes and corn along the edge of the coals, while the group was sipping their soft drinks of choice. Brody was in the motor home with Jim and Amy, where they were sipping on something a good deal more potent than soft drinks. They needed it. Once they'd crossed into Colorado on I-25 they'd begun to hit road construction, a lot of it. The result was an afternoon long nightmare of orange barrel gridlock, detours, and frayed tempers. At one point a few hours earlier, while they were waiting for a piece of laggard earth moving equipment to get off of the road, something had finally snapped inside of Isabel, and they'd thought that they were going to have to physically restrain her from getting out of the RV and blasting any obstacles out of their way. Their intention had been to drive flat out until 10:00 that night, grabbing takeout food to tide them over. But their lack of progress and worn tempers had finally gotten the better of them. It had been decided that they would stop early, sleep early, and get on the road in the morning before the traffic got bad. Inside, the adults were online, on the phone, and using maps; pulling in every available resource, even using Jim's clout as a law enforcement officer, to get information of just how bad things were ahead. And they were examining what alternate routes they could take.
Isabel was pacing like a caged animal. "Look, I have a credit card. Just let me out at Denver Airport, and I'll fly on ahead....."
"No," snapped Max; his own temper a little worn, "absolutely not. We have only the vaguest idea of what we're walking into, but we know damn well that it's dangerous, deadly dangerous. So you're not going there alone. That defeats the whole line of reasoning behind this little expedition, to make sure that whatever we face, we face it together."
Isabel spun on him. "You don't own me brother, so don't try to..."
Max was ready to fire back, cutting her off when the better angel of his nature spoke. "~Let me handle it, Max?~" came Liz's voice in his mind.
Max's mouth snapped shut. "~Go ahead, you can't do any worse than I was about to.~"
Liz caught Maria's eye and jerked her head to indicate where the rest rooms lay, off in the gathering darkness of the surrounding campground. Maria frowned a moment, until Liz glanced significantly at Isabel who was still going off on her now silent brother. Maria nodded and stood up.
"~I'll be back in a little while, Spaceboy~," Maria sent to her better half. "~Liz and I are going to see if we can't chill Iz down a bit. Save me some food.~"
Michael glanced up from his cooking and winced as Isabel caught her breath and continued her rant. "~Good luck, Sweetheart. Personally I think you'd get the best results by cracking her in the head with a rock. Max could always heal her later, after we've had some peace and quiet.~"
Maria managed to maintain a straight face, but she couldn't hide her amusement. "~Watch it, Michael. We women stick together. I understand her, even if you don't. She's scared, and worried.. In her shoes I would be too. Now behave, or I'll tell her what you said.~"
Michael was paying attention to the grill now, but his mind was still on Maria, and it was broadcasting mock innocence. "~What exactly did I 'say' that you could prove, Pixie?~" he teased "~It'd be your word against mine. Who would she believe?~"
"~Me~," said Maria, smugly. "~Remember what I said? We women stick together.~"
Michael flipped burger as he sent Maria a mental kiss, and his blessing, then he dialed the connection back so as not to distract her.
Maria had maneuvered close to Isabel, and as she drew breath to add yet another stanza to the 'song' that she was singing Max, Maria laid a hand on her shoulder. "Girl friend, lets take a walk," she said.
Isabel broke off from berating Max and stared at Maria as if she'd just spoken Swahili. "What? No, I don't...."
Liz appeared at her other side. "Please Iz, let's go...for a walk."
Isabel glanced from one to the other, trying to read their intentions. After a moment she gave up and shrugged. "Okay, let's go," she said, as she glared at her still silent brother. "I'm not accomplishing anything here anyway." To which she added silently, "And besides that, I might just keep on going. I wonder how long it would take me to hitchhike into Denver?"
As the three girls walked off into the dusk, headed in the general direction of the bathrooms, Kyle heaved a sigh of relief. "Evans, if that's a sample of what you've had to deal with growing up with Isabel, my respect for you knows no bounds. Jeeez, she could blister paint at forty yards."
Max chuckled and shook his head. Kyle was clowning around again, and for once Max could really appreciate it. "She hasn't been *that* bad, Kyle...trust me. Otherwise I'd have probably smothered her in her sleep long ago."
Michael gave a snort. "Well, whatever magic they work on her, they'd better not take too long about it. The burgers will be done in about fifteen minutes. And the rest of the food, not too long after that." Silently he sent to his soul mate.... "~Soup's on in fifteen minutes, don't take too long, Maria.~"
Maria fired back. "~It takes as long as it takes, Michael. Use your whammy, or whatever, to slow things down. Now don't bother me for a while. I need to focus here. If Liz and I can't get Isabel calmed down, she might bolt.~"
Michael sighed. "~It'll be ready when you are. Just let us know if it looks like she's going to run, so we can head her off.~" He paused a moment to flip a burger, then added, "~I love you.~"
"~I love you too, Spaceboy,~" she sent back. "~I'll let you know how it goes.~"
Michael grimaced as the connection dialed down. Max noticed and grinned. "Did she give you the same 'don't bother me while I'm trying to handle Isabel' lecture that Liz just gave me?"
Michael looked uncomfortable and shrugged, trying to blow it off, but managing to draw a laugh from Max.
Michael glared at him and said "What? What's so funny?"
Max shook his head. "Oh, nothing much. I was just thinking of the way that you used to claim that *I* was whipped."
Michael's face darkened for a moment, and his mouth opened as if he were about to say something, but he stopped himself, and grinned back instead. "The old me might have something to say about that, but speaking for the new me.... I wouldn't have it any other way."
Kyle looked back and forth between the two of them and shook his head. "You guys are just pathetic, ya know that?"
Silence descended around the fireplace, as Kyle pondered the fact that he was equally pathetic when it came to a certain blonde alien, and Max and Michael both refrained from pointing out that fact, because of the pain that went with it. But, of the three, only Max couldn't help but wonder what new levels of 'whipped' Kyle would be exploring after he finally met his son or daughter.
There was no doubt in Max's mind that that day would come either, one way or another. Even though he recognized the obstacles before them, he knew that they would succeed. They would get Alex back. They would get Tess back. Kyle would see his child. And they would defeat their enemies. Together they would *make* it happen, no matter how long it took. His determination was such that he could contemplate no other outcome. Without realizing it, he was letting the 'king' show through, and he was becoming something more than that. He was becoming a man. And, though he didn't know it yet, he *was* fulfilling his destiny.
Bear Run Asylum.....................9:45 PM
Duncan had taken his turn on watch early. He was restless, too restless to settle down enough for sleep to come readily. They were completely committed to their course of action now. There was a certain freedom that went with that. They no longer had to waste their time considering alternatives. The downside was that...you no longer *had* any alternatives left to consider. Britanicus's cutthroats might or might not be watching the asylum, but he had to assume that they were. Therefore, he and his little 'family' couldn't run now, even if they wanted to, or they'd be picked off piece meal. Therefore they were committed. He paused to consider the literal meaning of those words, in light of where they'd chosen to make their stand. "Damn, are we ever committed," he mused. A scrabbling noise broke his introspective frame of mind as Alex's head popped up through the trapdoor in the guard shack floor Duncan didn't move from his position out on the guard walk as he studied his protégé.
"I'd have thought that you would have had enough of this earlier this evening," Duncan said softly.
Alex hauled himself the rest of the way up out of the trapdoor and quickly crab walked out to join Duncan. As he did so he said, "It wouldn't matter if I did. I can't sleep, and you're the only one that's still awake. There's nothing to read. I don't feel like tossing cards in a hat for a few hours, even if I had the cards and the hat to toss them in. And I'm certainly not going to risk my life by waking up one of the others to talk to, so I figured that I'd join you." To which he added silently... "I'm afraid to sleep, is more like it."
Duncan was moved again by the distinct impression that the boy was hiding something, and wondered if he ought to press the matter. Now was not the time for secrets. "So, your friends are coming," he ventured, not as a question, but as a statement.
Alex shrugged. "Probably." Then he paused and laughed silently at his own pose of indifference. "There's being fatalistic," he thought... "and then there's being stupid. This is stupid." He sighed and spoke aloud. "Yeah, if they aren't halfway here already, it's because something or someone stopped them."
Duncan's eyebrow arched. "Someone?"
Alex studied Duncan a moment, then answered, "Yes, someone. There doesn't have to be anything ominous about it though. You keep forgetting that, even though I'm an Immortal, I'm just a kid. So are they. They have parents that they'd have to deal with." He chuckled softly. "I'd have paid good money to be a fly on the wall when they broke the news to Mr. and Mrs. Parker." Seeing Duncan's quizzical look he expanded on the explanation. "My friend Liz's parents. Liz has always been the stereotype of the 'good girl'. Quiet, smart, well behaved, organized, and on the fast track to the Ivy League.......which is exactly how her parents want it." Alex shook his head ruefully. "Poor Jeff and Nancy, their hopes were doomed the moment that Max saved Liz's life."
Duncan's ears pricked up. Alex was opening up at last! To keep things going he dissembled a bit by putting off what he really wanted to ask about. "Some parents can be like that, it shows that they care. As long as they aren't overbearing about it, it's better than the other way around."
Not fooled an inch, Alex grinned. "Oh, they can be a little heavy handed about it. But then Liz's change in behavior, after Max Evans came into her life, was a quite a shock to them." He chuckled. "She might as well be married to him, right this moment, and her parents still have no idea what really happened." Now he grimaced. "That single event changed so many lives...including mine. One day they'll have to be told. And I *really* do *not* want to be around for *that* conversation."
Duncan waited a long moment, for Alex to continue, but saw that his young friend was waiting for him to ask. Sighing he said, "If you're through baiting me and beating around the bush.... what exactly *did* happen? And who is Max?"
Alex looked at him with a straight face and said, "Max saved Liz's life, and he's Isabel's brother. Liz's parents own The Crashdown Cafe. It's a tourist trap and hangout for the local high school crowd. They serve fast-food and breakfasts, with an 'alien visitors/science fiction' theme." Alex grinned. "It's ironic when you think about it. Liz and our friend Maria work there, waiting tables. Liz, Maria, and I had been tight since we were small. None of us
knew it at the time, but Max had been in love with Liz since forever, and he used to take every opportunity to see her. As it happened, he was there in the Crashdown when two out-of-town morons got into an argument that got out of hand, and one of them pulled out a gun. In the struggle, the gun went off." Alex paused, pulled up his shirt, and indicated a spot just below his ribs. "The bullet hit Liz about right there. We didn't know it right then, but the hit was fatal. She would have died, right there on the floor of her folks' diner."
Duncan was fascinated with this window into Alex's life. "So what happened? You make it sound like this wasn't a case of simple first aid."
Alex shook his head. "It wasn't. Liz was dying. Max laid his hands her.... then she wasn't dying anymore."
Duncan blinked. "I beg your pardon, but...huh?"
Alex grinned. "Max healed her. Poof. No more bullet, and no more bullet hole."
Duncan blinked. Cass had been right it seemed, though he'd have to discuss it with her, because this sounded like it went way beyond the abilities that she'd mentioned. Natural talents. And not in just one, but an entire cluster of them. "How?" he asked.
Alex shrugged, and then grinned. "Voodoo? Hocus pocus? Who knows? They called it 'manipulating molecular structures'. Max, Isabel, Maria's boyfriend Michael, and...." Alex's mouth twisted "....Tess all had the ability. Liz kept it from Maria and I for a while until events started to get out of hand, and she was forced to tell us. I remember when they let me in on the big secret, I demanded proof from Isabel. Right in the middle of the restaurant, she checked to see if anyone was looking at us, then she reached out and caressed a bottle of ketchup ....and turned the contents into mustard."
Shaking his head like a punch drunk fighter, Duncan tried to clear it. Now that Alex was talking, he didn't know what to make of what he was hearing. Immortal or not, every now and then something would come along that would tax even his credulity. "So that's what they do? Change the composition of things? Lead into gold? Water into wine?"
Alex shook his head. "Call that one of their 'standard features'. They each had extras that went with it. All of them could heal...a little. But I got the impression that only Max could really pull off the big time 'drag someone back from the edge of the grave' stuff. Liz isn't the only friend of ours that's walking around today thanks to Max, as opposed to pushing up daisies. Max could also generate a shield that could stop people....or bullets. Isabel's powers ran to the Dream Walk, and altering colors on clothing and make up.... though she was quite capable of blowing something, or someone to smithereens if the occasion called for it. And you haven't lived until you've seen her play a CD... without a CD player." Alex's mouth twisted. "Michael was our problem child. He spent years falling through the cracks of the foster care system. He's had control issues all his life, both of himself, his environment, and his powers. Basically he was the proverbial loose cannon on deck, and literally a telekinetic
howitzer."
Duncan frowned. "You said Michael 'was'... as in past tense. Is he dead?"
Alex chuckled aloud. "No, no, he's just a changed man. Thanks to my friend Maria's inability to take 'no' for an answer, once she's settled on the man of her choice. Those two defined the phrase 'stormy courtship'."
"She sounds like a girl after Amanda's heart," Duncan said as he let out a soft chuckle. Then his face darkened. What about the... other one.... Tess?"
Alex grimaced. "She was a late addition; an outsider and an enigma of sorts. No one really trusted her, because when she first showed up she was always trying to separate us... the normal humans from those who weren't...normal. She wanted Max, and resented the hell out of the fact that Liz got there first. The fact that her guardian encouraged her attitude didn't help things either. As far as he was concerned, we were lower than pond scum." Alex's features assumed a puzzled look. "Towards the end there I thought she was actually coming around. I never would have believed....," he trailed off, and shook his head vigorously to clear it. "Anyway, aside from the standard features, she had mind warp. *That* was something that I already told you about. She could make you believe things that weren't true, or see things that weren't there. And though I didn't see it, at least once I understand that she was able to create...er, do... well the best I can label it is pyro-kinesis."
Duncan's eyebrows rose. "Run that by me again?"
"Thought driven napalm," Alex said helpfully, then by way of explanation he added, "It was an emergency situation. From the description that my friends gave me it sounded like something on the order of hysterical strength. As far as they know she was never able to do it again, that they knew of."
Duncan frowned. "Your friends sound like they lead rough lives."
Alex's mouth twisted slightly. "Not by their choice," he answered, with an accompanying half shrug. "They'd just as soon be left alone. They didn't ask to be..." he trailed off.
"Be what?" Duncan prodded, leaning forward slightly.
"What they are," Alex answered looking uncertain. "Look Duncan, when Cassandra pulled her whammy on us, Isabel had just talked me into spilling the beans to you. Full exposure. She was going to do the same at her end. By now they can't avoid knowing what I told Isabel...but..." Alex halted again and winced at the impatient snort that Duncan gave. "They'll be here soon enough, and if we're all still alive, they can tell you their own story far better than I could. To quote my friend Liz, back when I was trying to squeeze the truth out of *her*, 'it's not my secret to tell'. And what I've told you is just the tip of a very big iceberg."
Duncan studied his young friend for a long moment and then he looked away as the sound of thrashing in the dark brush surrounding the asylum reached them. He brought the night vision gear that Methos had given him back down to his eyes and began a slow scan of the surrounding terrain. There was a distant squeal, and Duncan made a dour sounding grunt before pushing the night goggles back up on his forehead. "Some owl collecting a rabbit dinner," he said and then he returned to his study of his student. After a moment he sighed. "All right Alex, I guess that we can live with that," Duncan said, with a wry smile. His Scottish brogue rarely showed anymore, but a hint of it was showing now. "I've always known, from the moment that Methos and Cass dragged you into my dojo, that you had a streak of honor a mile wide. Today, many people treat that like it's a character flaw." Duncan paused. "I don't." Then he cocked his head as he caught his protégé in mid yawn. "It looks like
the sandman is catching up to you. You'd better hit the hay."
Alex looked flustered. "I can last a while longer, if you don't mind the company."
Duncan picked up on the tone in his young friend's voice, looked up sharply, and read Alex exactly right. "Oh, I don't mind company, but I'm wondering if it should be me that we're discussing in that regard," he said, smirking slightly.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Alex answered, with as much dignity as he could summon. Then he yawned again.
Duncan shook his head, his smirk broadening a little, and taking on a hint of malicious intent. "You're hiding, that's what you're doing. I just realized that, if what you told us about your drunken dreams while we were out hiking today is true, then I imagine that your dream walking better half has a bone to pick with you, which you would as soon avoid for as long as possible. Am I getting warm?"
"I wouldn't know," Alex said, trying to blow it off....but Duncan wasn't buying what his young friend was trying to sell.
"Go to bed Alex," Duncan said firmly. "We'll need you sharp for tomorrow. What's the most that she could do to you? At worst it'll only sting for a little while." Duncan grinned outright. "Take it like a man."
Alex gave another jaw cracking yawn, which kind of ruined his shot at looking indignant. "That's easy enough for you to say. Just bear it in mind if she happens to be pissed at *you* when she arrives." Alex grinned back at Duncan's sudden discomfort, then withdrew to the guard shack and began to climb down the ladder. Before he dropped out of sight he winked and said, "Sweet dreams, Duncan." But the stentorian yawn that followed ruined the effect.
Duncan was left alone with his thoughts. They were still troubled and restless, but in a different and less stressful direction. 'What's the most that she could do to you?' Duncan had asked. In about an hour Isabel Evans would redefine the meaning of the word 'most' for him, in ways that neither he or Alex, nor any of their friends, had ever imagined.
Last edited by Kzinti_Killer on Wed Apr 20, 2005 3:50 am, edited 1 time in total.
Dragons, Ogres, & Pretty Boy Lawyers Slain, Reasonable Rates, Call After 5:00 At 1-900-OhMyGodWhatWereTheyThinkingOf
"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
-- Henry Jenkins
"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
-- Henry Jenkins
-
Kzinti_Killer
- Administrator
- Posts: 1019
- Joined: Fri Feb 22, 2002 6:44 am
- Location: High Reaches Weyr, Northern Pern
Title: Still Yours
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.
STILL YOURS - Part 18g
(Irresistible Forces and Immovable Objects)
Happy Travelers Campground...........10:30 PM
The camp fire was still burning brightly, even if the people around it were feeling a little burnt out themselves. The gathering was a stag party at the moment, since the ladies were in the motor home getting ready for bed. The adults took their jobs as chaperones very seriously, resulting in the men sleeping in tents, while the ladies got the shelter and relative security of the RV. At Max's private instigation, Kyle had made a half hearted try at arguing that they should flip coin or cut cards for the honor of sleeping in the RV. That idea died a quick and merciless death as Amy DeLuca had given him a withering look and followed the girls inside while muttering words to the effect that, "she had her work cut out for her". Once the women were indoors Jim Valenti, who was sitting across the fire from his son, beaned Kyle with a wadded up napkin left over from dinner.
Kyle looked up sharply. "What?"
"Son, I thought that you had better survival instincts than that," Jim said with a shake of his head.
Kyle flushed slightly, the grinned. "It was worth a shot." Then he glanced at the motor home door before leaning forward to continue quietly. "Besides, you don't think that I'm stupid enough to think that there was a chance in hell of the women sleeping out here, or that I'd piss them off like this without knowing the consequences of trying, do you?"
Michael stared at him for a moment then blinked. "That almost made sense Valenti. You're trying to say that you never intended that they give up the RV, and that you *did* intend that they think you're a caveman." Michael glanced over at Max and raised his hand and used his finger to make a slight stirring motion next to his head. "Max, you'd better heal him again, because I think that you missed some brain damage the last time around."
Max respectfully studied his onetime rival then turned to Michael and said, "Isabel."
Kyle glanced at Max and nodded, backing his statement. "Liz and Maria seem to have done a good job of talking her down, though she still looked mad enough to kill. So a little dose of 'us versus them' can't hurt. It'll make them club up. I can't say for sure that it'll make Isabel less inclined to bolt in the middle of the night, but it can't hurt that she feels a little tighter with the other girls for a while."
Michael hooked a leg out and kicked Kyle sharply. "Oh yeah, Valenti? Well genius, in case it's escaped your notice the 'them' isn't just you, it's likely to include *us* too. Thanks a bunch."
Kyle smirked. "You knew that the job was dangerous when you took it....Kemo Sabe."
Hearing his own words tossed back at him, Michael growled with barely suppressed temper as he glared at Kyle.
"Ah, ah, ah," said Kyle, as he waved a finger at Michael. "Playing the 'over-the-top scary punk alien' doesn't work with me anymore. For one thing I know you too well, and for another," he continued as he held up his finger, which glowed faintly as otherworldly energy crackled along it's length, "I can shoot back now."
"Laugh it up, Valenti," Michael growled. "That won't save you when Isabel turns your dreams into a carnival fun house. Be sure and tell me about it in the morning, if she lets you live."
Kyle smirked. "She won't bother with *me* tonight. She'll have bigger fish to fry. Bet me that she isn't beating down the door to Alex's subconscious, the instant that they're both asleep?"
Michael displayed a chilly grin..... a gallows grin. "You'd best hope so, Valenti. Otherwise you're going to spend a long night in hell." He shook his head. "I don't know who to feel more sympathy for, you.... or Alex." He studied Kyle for a moment, then shook his head. "Definitely Alex, 'cause you'll only be getting what's coming to you."
Kyle nodded, as his smirk broadened a bit. "So you say Guerin. Care to put your money where your mouth is?"
For a moment Michael stared at his adversary, in disbelief. "You're offering a bet?"
"What'd you think I was offering?" Kyle shot back. "A date?"
Michael snorted with laughter. "You're on. I saw the look that she shot at you when the girls went inside. If it had been backed by energy, you'd have been blown right out of your socks. I've got ten bucks that says that she makes hash out of your dreams tonight, regardless of whether or not she finally goes after Alex too."
Kyle stood and reached across the fire pit with his hand. "Shake on it."
As Michael grudgingly shook his hand Kyle glanced around at their fellow males and said, "Anyone else so lacking in confidence in me that they'll take a piece of this?"
The others were silent for only a moment, then Brody said, "I believe that I will. I think that your goose is cooked chum," as he shook Kyle's proffered hand. Jim declined, because he privately thought that Brody was right, and he couldn't bring himself to bet against his own son. However, Max had no reason to hold back. He took the bet as well, shaking Kyle's hand, even as Kyle glared at him.
"You put me up to it, El Presidente," he growled.
"Yup," answered Max, "guilty as charged. However, I don't think that that will make any difference to Isabel."
Kyle's glare intensified.
Better you than me," Max said. "But just to show you that I'm a good sport, I'll give you odds. Two to one."
Kyle glared a moment longer and then his face smoothed out into calm smile worthy of the Buddha himself. "It's a deal then. Have your money ready in the morning, guys." Then he left for the tent that he was sharing with his father.
Jim stood up, stretched, and said, "Kyle has the right idea. I think that I'll catch you all in the morning," then he followed his son.
After Jim disappeared into his and Kyle's tent, Max turned to Brody. "Did you arrive at any decisions about our route tomorrow?"
Brody sighed. "Every piece of two lane blacktop within two hundred miles seems to have an improvement or repair project of some kind or another going on." He sighed. "We should have flown. I should have just chartered a plane."
Max nodded sympathetically. "Maybe so, maybe no. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. We can't worry about what we *should* have done. That's the past. We simply need to learn from it and worry about the future."
Brody was silent for a long moment as he ruminated on the fact that some of Zan the King seemed to be showing through in Max the teenager. "Just so," he replied, as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a map that he'd hard copied to a printer in the RV. "We're going to bull our way through the construction and onto I-470 tomorrow morning. That's the belt line freeway for Denver. Once we get on that we can swing around the city and grab I-70 West into Utah and hook up with I-15. Then we turn North, towards Salt Lake City. There's little construction on I-70, once we pass into Utah, and even less on I-15." As he finished speaking he handed the map to Max.
With Michael looking over his shoulder, Max studied the proposed route. "We'll be going west, but we're actually losing ground it looks like; shading south. Am I right?"
When Brody nodded, Michael chimed in. "You do realize that Isabel is going to go ape shit about that, don't you?"
Max winced at Michael's assessment of his sister, as much because of it's dead on accuracy as for his choice of words. "It doesn't matter Michael, we're out of choices. We'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it." He turned back to Brody. "How much time will we lose?"
Brody shrugged. "I wish it were none, but there's nothing to be done about it. Six or seven hours, if we're lucky."
"And if we're not lucky?" Michael queried.
Brody glanced down into the dying embers of their fire and picked up a stick to poke at them. As a few lazy sparks rose to dance above the coals he said, "A full day, at least."
Michael stood up and stretched. "Well, just in case that happens, you'll pardon me if I turn in right now.... so that I'll have time to write my last will and testament before I fall asleep. Because, if we lose a full day for any reason, this side of an all out alien invasion, Isabel will make certain that whatever is left of us will never be found. And a few orange barrels won't cut it as an excuse." With that he gave Max and Brody a curt goodnight and stalked over to the tent that he and Max were sharing.
Once he was out of sight Max let the grunt of laughter that he'd been holding in escape. When he caught the 'what's so funny' look on Brody's face, he explained, "I love Isabel like...well, like a sister, but what Michael said carries more than a grain of truth. If we have another delay tomorrow, the only way to handle her will be with a stun gun."
Brody grinned and answered, "She's *your* sister my friend. You deal with it. Royal prerogative.... y'know?" punctuating his teasing with a yawn.
"I'll manage somehow," Max shot back. "Even if Liz and I have to let our composite handle it."
Brody nodded as he gave Max an 'oh, you poor sap' look , however he didn't try to keep the conversation going. It was just the two of them now, and the stress of the day was finally bleeding away leaving buzzing exhaustion in its wake. It wasn't too long after that Max jerked his head up to discover himself alone by the fire. He'd been certain that someone had called his name, but Brody was gone and no one else was around. Max had started to doze again when someone *did* call his name.
"~Max Evans! I know that you're still out there. Go to bed!~" said the impatient voice in his mind. "~Am I going to have to do this when we're married too?~"
Max started awake. "~Liz?~"
With the equivalent of a deep mental sigh. "~No, tonight I'm your mother. Go to bed.~"
Max gave the motor home a speculative glance as he staggered to his feet and stretched. "~Sorry, I dozed off.~" He was toying with an idea of.......
When she clearly sensed his emotions through the connection, Liz's droll mind voice headed off his fantasy as effectively as a bucket of cold water. "~Forget it Your Majesty. The shop is closed for the night, and probably for the next several days too. Maria and Isabel might turn a blind eye to what we want to do, but Amy, Brody, and Jim are all within earshot, and they take this chaperone thing seriously.~" Liz's voice changed tone. "~I know that you dozed off, Max. I could feel your mind getting fuzzy. And I intend on giving the rest of the boys a piece of my mind in the morning for not telling you when the party was over. But it fits with the way this is starting to shake out. You're the leader. Even the adults see you that way, whether they realize it or not. That's a two edged sword. On the one hand they're more leery of telling you what to do. On the other, you've got this iron man thing going. Like you've got to stand guard. You need to be the last man standing, or whatever. Failure equals weakness. It's a vicious circle. They defer to your common sense, but the problem is that when it comes to taking care of yourself you don't have any. You were going to stand guard all night, weren't you?~"
Max tried to protest. "~I wasn't thinking that. I wasn't going to....~" But Liz cut him off.
"~Max,~" she said gently, "~I know that it wasn't a part of any plan on your part. It's just a part of your unconscious makeup. And while there may be a time and a place when it may become necessary, this isn't it. Go to bed, then I can sleep too.~"
He *did* feel sort of like a poor job of embalming right about then. Max sighed and shambled over to the tent that he was sharing with Michael, who was already snoring softly. Max glared at his tent mate enviously while he struggled out of his clothes and slid into his sleeping bag. His warm and comfortable sleeping bag.
"~There, isn't that better?~" came Liz's query.
"~Close,~" Max answered in a drowsy tone. As sleep stole over him, his twilight state lowered his inhibitions. "~The only thing that could make it better is company.~"
Liz's amusement flowed softly into his mind. "~Not in the same tent with Michael Guerin. Sleep tight Max. I love you.~"
The thing that made her teasing easy to bear was that the connection went two ways. She ached to be with him, and he knew it. "~Love you too,~" he murmured across their connection. He was just about gone when a question prodded him partially awake. Liz felt it and answered before he could articulate what he wanted to know.
"~She's sound asleep Max~," she said. "~Anger, worry, and stress can really wear you out. Take it from me, I know. Don't worry, she's going nowhere tonight. Not with me sleeping on one side of her and Maria sleeping on the other.~"
Max sighed sleepily. "~I really love you, ya know? Even though I'd like to trade places with her for just a couple of minutes.~"
Liz giggled. "~I really love you too. Now go to sleep, while I try to figure out how to explain to Maria and Michael that you have a fantasy about sleeping between Maria and me.~"
Max smiled at her renewed teasing as he settled back to sleep. If he couldn't have sexy Liz, then playful Liz was the next best thing. Of course a playful *and* a sexy Liz wouldn't be scorned either....... His thoughts lost coherence at that point as sleep finally claimed him. Inside the motor home his soul mate settled down as well, and was asleep in only a breath or two. It was just as well that they had both fallen asleep so quickly. Because they would both need all their strength in the next twenty-four hours.
Inside the motor home Isabel's eyes began to move in a frantic and jerky fashion behind her eye lids. REM sleep had begun, and her hunt in the land of dreams had commenced. But first there was something that she had to attend to. Or rather, someone. She murmured in her sleep. Outside of local time and space, in the ether....the realm of spirits and souls, in the locus shared by the campsite, strange energies flickered and shifted. The lever of fate and the fulcrum of reality, driven by faith, hope, and love, were about to come together to give several people something to think about tonight, and for some time to come.
***THE DREAM STATE***
Isabel was irritated, and that didn't bode well for anybody's future well being. Kyle Valenti's dreams had always run to busty biker babes, and scoring winning touchdowns for this or that professional football team in this or that bowl game. Not even discovering the Buddha had managed to tone them down. That is, until tonight. The garden looked like something out of a Kinkade painting. It was so idyllic and pastoral that it made Isabel look around herself in panic. She thought that she must have gotten someone else's dream by mistake. The few times in the past that she'd slid into Kyle's dreams, they were all light, noise, action, and silicone enhanced women. Not.... flowers, bees, and chirping birds. Her quarry was no where to be seen, which ticked her off more than she had been previously. This was supposed to be a quick side trip, and she was impatient to get to the main event. Searching him out would cost her time that she didn't want to spend here. “Oh well”, she thought, "I'll simply
take it out of his hide when I catch up with him."
Then she cocked her ear as a melodic sound reached her. Music. Soft and quiet. Baroque chamber music? This was getting more psychotic by the minute. "If this is Valenti's dream, he must be drunk," she muttered, as she stalked down a graveled path, surrounded by high lilac bushes in full and furious bloom, tracking the music to its source. "Two drunks in two days is two too many. I'm not playing Elmer Fudd tonight! For putting me to this much trouble, he's getting Rosie squared. Rosanne Barr *and* Rosie O'Donnell."
She was still muttering angrily when she rounded a curve in the graveled path that abruptly brought her into a clearing. There was a small fountain that gave forth the tinkling sound of falling water in counterpoint to the chamber music that she'd tracked here. It was set in the middle of a closely cropped stretch of emerald green lawn. The lilacs had given way to a riotous profusion of flowers as well as flowering trees and shrubs, in carefully ordered plantings. There was honeysuckle, forsythia, roses, flowering crab apples, snapdragons, four o’clocks, periwinkle...and hundreds more that she couldn't even begin to identify. Their perfume hung in the air, blending into a delicate and soothing bouquet. All the ambiance was lost on her though, because she was focused on a blanket that was spread out in the middle of the lawn, just at the edge of a shady spot provided by a magnolia tree.
Isabel had frozen in place as soon as she'd spotted them. She needn't have bothered though. Because, to all appearances, Kyle Valenti's world apparently ended at the edge of the blanket that he was stretched out on. He was lying on his side and propping his head up with his hand as he watched the girl next to him sleep. Curled up next to him, lying on her side, was a very pregnant Tess Harding. She was using her hands to pillow her head, and Kyle was stroking her hair gently, as if she were a soap bubble and he was afraid that she'd vanish if he were too rough with her. The emotions playing on his face were almost too much for Isabel to bear. Tenderness, loneliness and sadness. Her anger stuttered, stopped, and bled away. Tormenting someone who was already mortally wounded would be petty, and unjust...either now *or* later. And whatever else Isabel was, she wasn't petty or unjust. She would leave, and leave him to his...meditation. She was starting to back out of the clearing when her heel caught on the edge of the path and she lost her balance. She sat down hard, and with a muffled groan. That got Kyle's attention. His eyes snapped up and caught hers, widening in horror. Raising a finger to his lips, he rolled off of the blanket and got up cautiously. Once he was clear he moved quickly to Isabel and helped her to her feet, before hustling her back down the path to the edge of the glade. He wasn't quite willing to *leave* the little garden behind, and thus let Tess out of his sight.... so he stopped short. Glancing back at the blanket he spoke softly and urgently. "Whatever you were planning to do to me, I'll pay you a hundred dollars to postpone it and get lost. Then you can spank me twice as hard tomorrow night."
Isabel shook her head, and Kyle took it for a rejection of his request, thus he was looking desperate when he began to plead his case again, but Isabel shushed him. "Don't beg Kyle, it doesn't become you. Besides, what kind of bitch do you take me for anyway?" She grinned a little impishly. "I don't deny that I wasn't going to give you what you had coming. I was, and double at that." She glanced past him at the blanket. "But not now. No, not now." Pausing she looked at him for a moment, then asked the question that was topmost in her mind. "Is
that really.....?"
Kyle glanced at the blanket himself, anxious to wrap this conversation up and get back to it's occupant. "I don't know. I've known you guys a while, but being on the 'inside' with this alien powers stuff is still new to me." He glanced back at Tess, then went on. "I don't know what I'm capable of. What you guys are capable of. Hell, even *you* guys don't know what you're capable of. What's my new normal? Didn't your people ever think of sending an operator's manual?"
Isabel was taken aback by Kyle's mini-rant, more so by the fact that he seemed more worried and exasperated than angry. The Kyle Valenti that she had known should have been pissed, and a little scared. "Kyle, the closest thing that we've ever had to an operator's manual is laying over there on that blanket. And how much she *actually* knows depends on how much of what she was told is actually true, and how much is bullshit that Nasedo fed to her." She sighed deeply. "I have a hunch that we were sent with full information, but that it was destroyed in the crash. Or that Nasedo himself destroyed it to further his own agenda." She looked thoughtful then went on. "Hunches are all that we have to go on. Hunches, guesses, and feelings. This is intuitive stuff. Go with what feels like the truth."
"I'm a guy," Kyle said with a grimace. "Intuition and testosterone are mutually repulsive."
Isabel shook her head. "Nonsense, you're plenty intuitive enough Kyle, or you wouldn't be into Eastern religion. And I've seen plenty of first-hand evidence with my own two eyes. Any lack that you see on your part is just a result of peer pressure that you could live without smothering your natural talents." She paused significantly. "Now, is that Tess? What does your *heart* tell you?"
Kyle looked like he were ready to weep with frustration. "I don't *know* damn it! This place, this garden, isn't my usual sort of dream. But, more than that, it feels different. Like it has a different substance. A different texture. It *feels* real." He glanced back at the sleeping girl again and said, "And so does she. But I can't tell if that's because she is....or because I want her to be. I'm afraid to wake her up to try and find out."
Isabel sighed and pulled Kyle into a hug. "It'll be okay Kyle, just go with it. I think that you'll know, like I did with Alex. I think that you *do* know. Don't be afraid of being wrong when the worst that can happen is that you make a fool of yourself. Love makes fools of us all, sooner or later. But the pay off is worth it."
"Kyle?" said a feminine voice....... that wasn't Isabel's.
Isabel and Kyle broke their hug and stared at a disoriented Tess blinking sleepily as she levered herself up awkwardly on one hand, while her other hand cradled her distended belly. Many emotions were playing across her face. Confusion, loneliness, fear..... and a growing tinge of jealousy. Then her thought processes caught up with her memories and her eyes locked on Isabel's. "Oh God, Isabel.... I'm sorry! I'm so sorry." Tears began to flow as her voice rose towards becoming a wail of grief, becoming incoherent as she couldn't get words out fast enough.. "Alex! It wasn't me... I tried.... I never meant... Tell them that I'm sorr...."
Somewhere at an operator's console light-years away, someone finally noticed an instrument reading that was frankly impossible, and made an adjustment to some equipment to compensate....and in the space between one eye blink and the next, she was gone, leaving the blanket empty.
"Tess!" Kyle screamed, as he ran to where she had been. "Come back!" He sank to his knees and gathered up the blanket, hugging it to himself as if it were her. Grieving. After a moment he felt a hand on his shoulder. "It *was* her," he said in a dull dead tone. "It was her, and she saw us together. Light-years away, pregnant, abandoned, and alone, and now God knows what she thinks of what she saw." He looked up into Isabel's sympathetic eyes. "How was she able to do this?" Hope blossomed. "Can you? Could you reach her? To explain?"
Isabel sighed. "I don't know Kyle. Tess never showed any talent for the Dream Walk, despite the fact that I tried to teach her. It could be that we all have the same innate abilities, I don't know. This might not have been her doing. It might have been you." She saw Kyle's astonished and automatic rejection of the idea. "Or it might have been something that the two of you did together, a result of your connection to each other."
"Screw that," he growled. The notion that it was all his doing plagued him. It would mean the *he* had dragged the woman that he loved all this way, to see him in Isabel's arms.... and then his butterfingers had let her slip away without an explanation. "If either Tess or I... or both of us can do this much in total ignorance, then someone experienced ought to be able to do a lot more deliberately."
Isabel didn't need a picture drawn for her. "I promise that, as soon as we get back home, I'll try."
Kyle nodded. "I can't ask for more than that I guess."
"Do you want me to stay?" she asked.
The offer was tempting, so very tempting. He'd never felt so bereft, not even when his mother had abandoned them. “Knock it off Valenti”, he snarled at himself silently, in his own mind. “You aren't the only one with your guts on the ground here.... and hers have been there a lot longer.” Kyle drew a breath and shuddered. "No, you get going. You have other business tonight."
"You'll be okay?"
He shrugged. "No, but your staying wouldn't make that much difference. You being with Alex would do more for my morale than you sitting around feeling lousy for me and holding my hand." Isabel was in the act of leaning down to kiss Kyle good-bye when he looked up at her and displayed a weak smile. "Don't tell the others what happened.... that you were here, huh?"
Isabel looked skeptical. "Are you sure?"
Kyle nodded. "I'm sure. For one thing, I don't want the others hovering around me in sympathy. My dad would feel useless, and Amy would try to mother me to death. It might even drive Michael to stop being sarcastic." He paused, looking a little like himself again. "Speaking of whom, I have money bet with Michael, Brody, and Max that you would be so focused on Alex that you'd ignore me tonight. Your brother gave me two to one odds on it, despite the fact that he put me up to it."
"He did what?" Isabel said softly, dangerously. Her sneaky brother had nearly had her lynching an innocent man. "Why would he do that?"
Kyle was absentmindedly stroking the blanket. It was still warm with Tess' presence, and redolent of her scent. "I didn't take much convincing. He was worried. We were all worried that you'd bolt during the night. So we figured that aggravating the girls in general, and you in particular, might make you bond a little tighter with them for the short term. So you'd be less inclined to abandon us to try and go it alone."
Isabel glared at him for a moment. "As psychology goes, that sucks."
Kyle shrugged. "Let one of us go get a psychology degree from some diploma mill, and maybe we'll come up with something better. For now though you get the Doctor Phil approach." He looked her in the eyes and raised one hand to grasp one of hers tightly. "If you want to do something to lift my spirits, promise me that no matter how frustrated you get you'll stick with us. No running off on solo missions."
Isabel looked away.
"Promise," he insisted. "Call it a favor to the downhearted."
Isabel's eyes narrowed as she looked back at him. He'd gone straight for her most vulnerable point. "Oh yeah Valenti, you're plenty intuitive. Don't let anyone tell you differently. Okay, I promise. I'm here for the long haul. Satisfied?"
Kyle nodded. "Good enough." He turned back to the blanket, wishing for the tenth time in the last few minutes that it were real, so that he could keep it. "Now beat it. You have things to do, and people to see."
Isabel stared at him a moment longer, giving him the chance to vent, but he was already oblivious to her.
Somewhere in his mind he was conducting a tryst with someone else. When she kissed him on the cheek, he never stirred. Turning away she hurried out of the glade and down the path, towards her own assignation with love.
Back in the sun lit garden, Kyle spread the blanket out and curled up on it himself. The only thing that kept him from breaking down was the fact that he knew that it would do no good. But that didn't stop him from wanting to.
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.
STILL YOURS - Part 18g
(Irresistible Forces and Immovable Objects)
Happy Travelers Campground...........10:30 PM
The camp fire was still burning brightly, even if the people around it were feeling a little burnt out themselves. The gathering was a stag party at the moment, since the ladies were in the motor home getting ready for bed. The adults took their jobs as chaperones very seriously, resulting in the men sleeping in tents, while the ladies got the shelter and relative security of the RV. At Max's private instigation, Kyle had made a half hearted try at arguing that they should flip coin or cut cards for the honor of sleeping in the RV. That idea died a quick and merciless death as Amy DeLuca had given him a withering look and followed the girls inside while muttering words to the effect that, "she had her work cut out for her". Once the women were indoors Jim Valenti, who was sitting across the fire from his son, beaned Kyle with a wadded up napkin left over from dinner.
Kyle looked up sharply. "What?"
"Son, I thought that you had better survival instincts than that," Jim said with a shake of his head.
Kyle flushed slightly, the grinned. "It was worth a shot." Then he glanced at the motor home door before leaning forward to continue quietly. "Besides, you don't think that I'm stupid enough to think that there was a chance in hell of the women sleeping out here, or that I'd piss them off like this without knowing the consequences of trying, do you?"
Michael stared at him for a moment then blinked. "That almost made sense Valenti. You're trying to say that you never intended that they give up the RV, and that you *did* intend that they think you're a caveman." Michael glanced over at Max and raised his hand and used his finger to make a slight stirring motion next to his head. "Max, you'd better heal him again, because I think that you missed some brain damage the last time around."
Max respectfully studied his onetime rival then turned to Michael and said, "Isabel."
Kyle glanced at Max and nodded, backing his statement. "Liz and Maria seem to have done a good job of talking her down, though she still looked mad enough to kill. So a little dose of 'us versus them' can't hurt. It'll make them club up. I can't say for sure that it'll make Isabel less inclined to bolt in the middle of the night, but it can't hurt that she feels a little tighter with the other girls for a while."
Michael hooked a leg out and kicked Kyle sharply. "Oh yeah, Valenti? Well genius, in case it's escaped your notice the 'them' isn't just you, it's likely to include *us* too. Thanks a bunch."
Kyle smirked. "You knew that the job was dangerous when you took it....Kemo Sabe."
Hearing his own words tossed back at him, Michael growled with barely suppressed temper as he glared at Kyle.
"Ah, ah, ah," said Kyle, as he waved a finger at Michael. "Playing the 'over-the-top scary punk alien' doesn't work with me anymore. For one thing I know you too well, and for another," he continued as he held up his finger, which glowed faintly as otherworldly energy crackled along it's length, "I can shoot back now."
"Laugh it up, Valenti," Michael growled. "That won't save you when Isabel turns your dreams into a carnival fun house. Be sure and tell me about it in the morning, if she lets you live."
Kyle smirked. "She won't bother with *me* tonight. She'll have bigger fish to fry. Bet me that she isn't beating down the door to Alex's subconscious, the instant that they're both asleep?"
Michael displayed a chilly grin..... a gallows grin. "You'd best hope so, Valenti. Otherwise you're going to spend a long night in hell." He shook his head. "I don't know who to feel more sympathy for, you.... or Alex." He studied Kyle for a moment, then shook his head. "Definitely Alex, 'cause you'll only be getting what's coming to you."
Kyle nodded, as his smirk broadened a bit. "So you say Guerin. Care to put your money where your mouth is?"
For a moment Michael stared at his adversary, in disbelief. "You're offering a bet?"
"What'd you think I was offering?" Kyle shot back. "A date?"
Michael snorted with laughter. "You're on. I saw the look that she shot at you when the girls went inside. If it had been backed by energy, you'd have been blown right out of your socks. I've got ten bucks that says that she makes hash out of your dreams tonight, regardless of whether or not she finally goes after Alex too."
Kyle stood and reached across the fire pit with his hand. "Shake on it."
As Michael grudgingly shook his hand Kyle glanced around at their fellow males and said, "Anyone else so lacking in confidence in me that they'll take a piece of this?"
The others were silent for only a moment, then Brody said, "I believe that I will. I think that your goose is cooked chum," as he shook Kyle's proffered hand. Jim declined, because he privately thought that Brody was right, and he couldn't bring himself to bet against his own son. However, Max had no reason to hold back. He took the bet as well, shaking Kyle's hand, even as Kyle glared at him.
"You put me up to it, El Presidente," he growled.
"Yup," answered Max, "guilty as charged. However, I don't think that that will make any difference to Isabel."
Kyle's glare intensified.
Better you than me," Max said. "But just to show you that I'm a good sport, I'll give you odds. Two to one."
Kyle glared a moment longer and then his face smoothed out into calm smile worthy of the Buddha himself. "It's a deal then. Have your money ready in the morning, guys." Then he left for the tent that he was sharing with his father.
Jim stood up, stretched, and said, "Kyle has the right idea. I think that I'll catch you all in the morning," then he followed his son.
After Jim disappeared into his and Kyle's tent, Max turned to Brody. "Did you arrive at any decisions about our route tomorrow?"
Brody sighed. "Every piece of two lane blacktop within two hundred miles seems to have an improvement or repair project of some kind or another going on." He sighed. "We should have flown. I should have just chartered a plane."
Max nodded sympathetically. "Maybe so, maybe no. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. We can't worry about what we *should* have done. That's the past. We simply need to learn from it and worry about the future."
Brody was silent for a long moment as he ruminated on the fact that some of Zan the King seemed to be showing through in Max the teenager. "Just so," he replied, as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a map that he'd hard copied to a printer in the RV. "We're going to bull our way through the construction and onto I-470 tomorrow morning. That's the belt line freeway for Denver. Once we get on that we can swing around the city and grab I-70 West into Utah and hook up with I-15. Then we turn North, towards Salt Lake City. There's little construction on I-70, once we pass into Utah, and even less on I-15." As he finished speaking he handed the map to Max.
With Michael looking over his shoulder, Max studied the proposed route. "We'll be going west, but we're actually losing ground it looks like; shading south. Am I right?"
When Brody nodded, Michael chimed in. "You do realize that Isabel is going to go ape shit about that, don't you?"
Max winced at Michael's assessment of his sister, as much because of it's dead on accuracy as for his choice of words. "It doesn't matter Michael, we're out of choices. We'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it." He turned back to Brody. "How much time will we lose?"
Brody shrugged. "I wish it were none, but there's nothing to be done about it. Six or seven hours, if we're lucky."
"And if we're not lucky?" Michael queried.
Brody glanced down into the dying embers of their fire and picked up a stick to poke at them. As a few lazy sparks rose to dance above the coals he said, "A full day, at least."
Michael stood up and stretched. "Well, just in case that happens, you'll pardon me if I turn in right now.... so that I'll have time to write my last will and testament before I fall asleep. Because, if we lose a full day for any reason, this side of an all out alien invasion, Isabel will make certain that whatever is left of us will never be found. And a few orange barrels won't cut it as an excuse." With that he gave Max and Brody a curt goodnight and stalked over to the tent that he and Max were sharing.
Once he was out of sight Max let the grunt of laughter that he'd been holding in escape. When he caught the 'what's so funny' look on Brody's face, he explained, "I love Isabel like...well, like a sister, but what Michael said carries more than a grain of truth. If we have another delay tomorrow, the only way to handle her will be with a stun gun."
Brody grinned and answered, "She's *your* sister my friend. You deal with it. Royal prerogative.... y'know?" punctuating his teasing with a yawn.
"I'll manage somehow," Max shot back. "Even if Liz and I have to let our composite handle it."
Brody nodded as he gave Max an 'oh, you poor sap' look , however he didn't try to keep the conversation going. It was just the two of them now, and the stress of the day was finally bleeding away leaving buzzing exhaustion in its wake. It wasn't too long after that Max jerked his head up to discover himself alone by the fire. He'd been certain that someone had called his name, but Brody was gone and no one else was around. Max had started to doze again when someone *did* call his name.
"~Max Evans! I know that you're still out there. Go to bed!~" said the impatient voice in his mind. "~Am I going to have to do this when we're married too?~"
Max started awake. "~Liz?~"
With the equivalent of a deep mental sigh. "~No, tonight I'm your mother. Go to bed.~"
Max gave the motor home a speculative glance as he staggered to his feet and stretched. "~Sorry, I dozed off.~" He was toying with an idea of.......
When she clearly sensed his emotions through the connection, Liz's droll mind voice headed off his fantasy as effectively as a bucket of cold water. "~Forget it Your Majesty. The shop is closed for the night, and probably for the next several days too. Maria and Isabel might turn a blind eye to what we want to do, but Amy, Brody, and Jim are all within earshot, and they take this chaperone thing seriously.~" Liz's voice changed tone. "~I know that you dozed off, Max. I could feel your mind getting fuzzy. And I intend on giving the rest of the boys a piece of my mind in the morning for not telling you when the party was over. But it fits with the way this is starting to shake out. You're the leader. Even the adults see you that way, whether they realize it or not. That's a two edged sword. On the one hand they're more leery of telling you what to do. On the other, you've got this iron man thing going. Like you've got to stand guard. You need to be the last man standing, or whatever. Failure equals weakness. It's a vicious circle. They defer to your common sense, but the problem is that when it comes to taking care of yourself you don't have any. You were going to stand guard all night, weren't you?~"
Max tried to protest. "~I wasn't thinking that. I wasn't going to....~" But Liz cut him off.
"~Max,~" she said gently, "~I know that it wasn't a part of any plan on your part. It's just a part of your unconscious makeup. And while there may be a time and a place when it may become necessary, this isn't it. Go to bed, then I can sleep too.~"
He *did* feel sort of like a poor job of embalming right about then. Max sighed and shambled over to the tent that he was sharing with Michael, who was already snoring softly. Max glared at his tent mate enviously while he struggled out of his clothes and slid into his sleeping bag. His warm and comfortable sleeping bag.
"~There, isn't that better?~" came Liz's query.
"~Close,~" Max answered in a drowsy tone. As sleep stole over him, his twilight state lowered his inhibitions. "~The only thing that could make it better is company.~"
Liz's amusement flowed softly into his mind. "~Not in the same tent with Michael Guerin. Sleep tight Max. I love you.~"
The thing that made her teasing easy to bear was that the connection went two ways. She ached to be with him, and he knew it. "~Love you too,~" he murmured across their connection. He was just about gone when a question prodded him partially awake. Liz felt it and answered before he could articulate what he wanted to know.
"~She's sound asleep Max~," she said. "~Anger, worry, and stress can really wear you out. Take it from me, I know. Don't worry, she's going nowhere tonight. Not with me sleeping on one side of her and Maria sleeping on the other.~"
Max sighed sleepily. "~I really love you, ya know? Even though I'd like to trade places with her for just a couple of minutes.~"
Liz giggled. "~I really love you too. Now go to sleep, while I try to figure out how to explain to Maria and Michael that you have a fantasy about sleeping between Maria and me.~"
Max smiled at her renewed teasing as he settled back to sleep. If he couldn't have sexy Liz, then playful Liz was the next best thing. Of course a playful *and* a sexy Liz wouldn't be scorned either....... His thoughts lost coherence at that point as sleep finally claimed him. Inside the motor home his soul mate settled down as well, and was asleep in only a breath or two. It was just as well that they had both fallen asleep so quickly. Because they would both need all their strength in the next twenty-four hours.
Inside the motor home Isabel's eyes began to move in a frantic and jerky fashion behind her eye lids. REM sleep had begun, and her hunt in the land of dreams had commenced. But first there was something that she had to attend to. Or rather, someone. She murmured in her sleep. Outside of local time and space, in the ether....the realm of spirits and souls, in the locus shared by the campsite, strange energies flickered and shifted. The lever of fate and the fulcrum of reality, driven by faith, hope, and love, were about to come together to give several people something to think about tonight, and for some time to come.
***THE DREAM STATE***
Isabel was irritated, and that didn't bode well for anybody's future well being. Kyle Valenti's dreams had always run to busty biker babes, and scoring winning touchdowns for this or that professional football team in this or that bowl game. Not even discovering the Buddha had managed to tone them down. That is, until tonight. The garden looked like something out of a Kinkade painting. It was so idyllic and pastoral that it made Isabel look around herself in panic. She thought that she must have gotten someone else's dream by mistake. The few times in the past that she'd slid into Kyle's dreams, they were all light, noise, action, and silicone enhanced women. Not.... flowers, bees, and chirping birds. Her quarry was no where to be seen, which ticked her off more than she had been previously. This was supposed to be a quick side trip, and she was impatient to get to the main event. Searching him out would cost her time that she didn't want to spend here. “Oh well”, she thought, "I'll simply
take it out of his hide when I catch up with him."
Then she cocked her ear as a melodic sound reached her. Music. Soft and quiet. Baroque chamber music? This was getting more psychotic by the minute. "If this is Valenti's dream, he must be drunk," she muttered, as she stalked down a graveled path, surrounded by high lilac bushes in full and furious bloom, tracking the music to its source. "Two drunks in two days is two too many. I'm not playing Elmer Fudd tonight! For putting me to this much trouble, he's getting Rosie squared. Rosanne Barr *and* Rosie O'Donnell."
She was still muttering angrily when she rounded a curve in the graveled path that abruptly brought her into a clearing. There was a small fountain that gave forth the tinkling sound of falling water in counterpoint to the chamber music that she'd tracked here. It was set in the middle of a closely cropped stretch of emerald green lawn. The lilacs had given way to a riotous profusion of flowers as well as flowering trees and shrubs, in carefully ordered plantings. There was honeysuckle, forsythia, roses, flowering crab apples, snapdragons, four o’clocks, periwinkle...and hundreds more that she couldn't even begin to identify. Their perfume hung in the air, blending into a delicate and soothing bouquet. All the ambiance was lost on her though, because she was focused on a blanket that was spread out in the middle of the lawn, just at the edge of a shady spot provided by a magnolia tree.
Isabel had frozen in place as soon as she'd spotted them. She needn't have bothered though. Because, to all appearances, Kyle Valenti's world apparently ended at the edge of the blanket that he was stretched out on. He was lying on his side and propping his head up with his hand as he watched the girl next to him sleep. Curled up next to him, lying on her side, was a very pregnant Tess Harding. She was using her hands to pillow her head, and Kyle was stroking her hair gently, as if she were a soap bubble and he was afraid that she'd vanish if he were too rough with her. The emotions playing on his face were almost too much for Isabel to bear. Tenderness, loneliness and sadness. Her anger stuttered, stopped, and bled away. Tormenting someone who was already mortally wounded would be petty, and unjust...either now *or* later. And whatever else Isabel was, she wasn't petty or unjust. She would leave, and leave him to his...meditation. She was starting to back out of the clearing when her heel caught on the edge of the path and she lost her balance. She sat down hard, and with a muffled groan. That got Kyle's attention. His eyes snapped up and caught hers, widening in horror. Raising a finger to his lips, he rolled off of the blanket and got up cautiously. Once he was clear he moved quickly to Isabel and helped her to her feet, before hustling her back down the path to the edge of the glade. He wasn't quite willing to *leave* the little garden behind, and thus let Tess out of his sight.... so he stopped short. Glancing back at the blanket he spoke softly and urgently. "Whatever you were planning to do to me, I'll pay you a hundred dollars to postpone it and get lost. Then you can spank me twice as hard tomorrow night."
Isabel shook her head, and Kyle took it for a rejection of his request, thus he was looking desperate when he began to plead his case again, but Isabel shushed him. "Don't beg Kyle, it doesn't become you. Besides, what kind of bitch do you take me for anyway?" She grinned a little impishly. "I don't deny that I wasn't going to give you what you had coming. I was, and double at that." She glanced past him at the blanket. "But not now. No, not now." Pausing she looked at him for a moment, then asked the question that was topmost in her mind. "Is
that really.....?"
Kyle glanced at the blanket himself, anxious to wrap this conversation up and get back to it's occupant. "I don't know. I've known you guys a while, but being on the 'inside' with this alien powers stuff is still new to me." He glanced back at Tess, then went on. "I don't know what I'm capable of. What you guys are capable of. Hell, even *you* guys don't know what you're capable of. What's my new normal? Didn't your people ever think of sending an operator's manual?"
Isabel was taken aback by Kyle's mini-rant, more so by the fact that he seemed more worried and exasperated than angry. The Kyle Valenti that she had known should have been pissed, and a little scared. "Kyle, the closest thing that we've ever had to an operator's manual is laying over there on that blanket. And how much she *actually* knows depends on how much of what she was told is actually true, and how much is bullshit that Nasedo fed to her." She sighed deeply. "I have a hunch that we were sent with full information, but that it was destroyed in the crash. Or that Nasedo himself destroyed it to further his own agenda." She looked thoughtful then went on. "Hunches are all that we have to go on. Hunches, guesses, and feelings. This is intuitive stuff. Go with what feels like the truth."
"I'm a guy," Kyle said with a grimace. "Intuition and testosterone are mutually repulsive."
Isabel shook her head. "Nonsense, you're plenty intuitive enough Kyle, or you wouldn't be into Eastern religion. And I've seen plenty of first-hand evidence with my own two eyes. Any lack that you see on your part is just a result of peer pressure that you could live without smothering your natural talents." She paused significantly. "Now, is that Tess? What does your *heart* tell you?"
Kyle looked like he were ready to weep with frustration. "I don't *know* damn it! This place, this garden, isn't my usual sort of dream. But, more than that, it feels different. Like it has a different substance. A different texture. It *feels* real." He glanced back at the sleeping girl again and said, "And so does she. But I can't tell if that's because she is....or because I want her to be. I'm afraid to wake her up to try and find out."
Isabel sighed and pulled Kyle into a hug. "It'll be okay Kyle, just go with it. I think that you'll know, like I did with Alex. I think that you *do* know. Don't be afraid of being wrong when the worst that can happen is that you make a fool of yourself. Love makes fools of us all, sooner or later. But the pay off is worth it."
"Kyle?" said a feminine voice....... that wasn't Isabel's.
Isabel and Kyle broke their hug and stared at a disoriented Tess blinking sleepily as she levered herself up awkwardly on one hand, while her other hand cradled her distended belly. Many emotions were playing across her face. Confusion, loneliness, fear..... and a growing tinge of jealousy. Then her thought processes caught up with her memories and her eyes locked on Isabel's. "Oh God, Isabel.... I'm sorry! I'm so sorry." Tears began to flow as her voice rose towards becoming a wail of grief, becoming incoherent as she couldn't get words out fast enough.. "Alex! It wasn't me... I tried.... I never meant... Tell them that I'm sorr...."
Somewhere at an operator's console light-years away, someone finally noticed an instrument reading that was frankly impossible, and made an adjustment to some equipment to compensate....and in the space between one eye blink and the next, she was gone, leaving the blanket empty.
"Tess!" Kyle screamed, as he ran to where she had been. "Come back!" He sank to his knees and gathered up the blanket, hugging it to himself as if it were her. Grieving. After a moment he felt a hand on his shoulder. "It *was* her," he said in a dull dead tone. "It was her, and she saw us together. Light-years away, pregnant, abandoned, and alone, and now God knows what she thinks of what she saw." He looked up into Isabel's sympathetic eyes. "How was she able to do this?" Hope blossomed. "Can you? Could you reach her? To explain?"
Isabel sighed. "I don't know Kyle. Tess never showed any talent for the Dream Walk, despite the fact that I tried to teach her. It could be that we all have the same innate abilities, I don't know. This might not have been her doing. It might have been you." She saw Kyle's astonished and automatic rejection of the idea. "Or it might have been something that the two of you did together, a result of your connection to each other."
"Screw that," he growled. The notion that it was all his doing plagued him. It would mean the *he* had dragged the woman that he loved all this way, to see him in Isabel's arms.... and then his butterfingers had let her slip away without an explanation. "If either Tess or I... or both of us can do this much in total ignorance, then someone experienced ought to be able to do a lot more deliberately."
Isabel didn't need a picture drawn for her. "I promise that, as soon as we get back home, I'll try."
Kyle nodded. "I can't ask for more than that I guess."
"Do you want me to stay?" she asked.
The offer was tempting, so very tempting. He'd never felt so bereft, not even when his mother had abandoned them. “Knock it off Valenti”, he snarled at himself silently, in his own mind. “You aren't the only one with your guts on the ground here.... and hers have been there a lot longer.” Kyle drew a breath and shuddered. "No, you get going. You have other business tonight."
"You'll be okay?"
He shrugged. "No, but your staying wouldn't make that much difference. You being with Alex would do more for my morale than you sitting around feeling lousy for me and holding my hand." Isabel was in the act of leaning down to kiss Kyle good-bye when he looked up at her and displayed a weak smile. "Don't tell the others what happened.... that you were here, huh?"
Isabel looked skeptical. "Are you sure?"
Kyle nodded. "I'm sure. For one thing, I don't want the others hovering around me in sympathy. My dad would feel useless, and Amy would try to mother me to death. It might even drive Michael to stop being sarcastic." He paused, looking a little like himself again. "Speaking of whom, I have money bet with Michael, Brody, and Max that you would be so focused on Alex that you'd ignore me tonight. Your brother gave me two to one odds on it, despite the fact that he put me up to it."
"He did what?" Isabel said softly, dangerously. Her sneaky brother had nearly had her lynching an innocent man. "Why would he do that?"
Kyle was absentmindedly stroking the blanket. It was still warm with Tess' presence, and redolent of her scent. "I didn't take much convincing. He was worried. We were all worried that you'd bolt during the night. So we figured that aggravating the girls in general, and you in particular, might make you bond a little tighter with them for the short term. So you'd be less inclined to abandon us to try and go it alone."
Isabel glared at him for a moment. "As psychology goes, that sucks."
Kyle shrugged. "Let one of us go get a psychology degree from some diploma mill, and maybe we'll come up with something better. For now though you get the Doctor Phil approach." He looked her in the eyes and raised one hand to grasp one of hers tightly. "If you want to do something to lift my spirits, promise me that no matter how frustrated you get you'll stick with us. No running off on solo missions."
Isabel looked away.
"Promise," he insisted. "Call it a favor to the downhearted."
Isabel's eyes narrowed as she looked back at him. He'd gone straight for her most vulnerable point. "Oh yeah Valenti, you're plenty intuitive. Don't let anyone tell you differently. Okay, I promise. I'm here for the long haul. Satisfied?"
Kyle nodded. "Good enough." He turned back to the blanket, wishing for the tenth time in the last few minutes that it were real, so that he could keep it. "Now beat it. You have things to do, and people to see."
Isabel stared at him a moment longer, giving him the chance to vent, but he was already oblivious to her.
Somewhere in his mind he was conducting a tryst with someone else. When she kissed him on the cheek, he never stirred. Turning away she hurried out of the glade and down the path, towards her own assignation with love.
Back in the sun lit garden, Kyle spread the blanket out and curled up on it himself. The only thing that kept him from breaking down was the fact that he knew that it would do no good. But that didn't stop him from wanting to.
Last edited by Kzinti_Killer on Wed Apr 20, 2005 3:59 am, edited 4 times in total.
Dragons, Ogres, & Pretty Boy Lawyers Slain, Reasonable Rates, Call After 5:00 At 1-900-OhMyGodWhatWereTheyThinkingOf
"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
-- Henry Jenkins
"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
-- Henry Jenkins
-
Kzinti_Killer
- Administrator
- Posts: 1019
- Joined: Fri Feb 22, 2002 6:44 am
- Location: High Reaches Weyr, Northern Pern
Title: Still Yours
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.
STILL YOURS - Part 18h
(Irresistible Forces and Immovable Objects)
The Trophy Room....Ordak Keep.......Antar
The senior project scientist had died without uttering a sound. Whether it was because his death was so sudden or because he'd known that arguing his case with his overlord was useless was moot. Both were equally true, and he was equally dead either way. Standing next to the smear of dust and grease that currently comprised his late superior, the project second in command awaited his superior's pleasure.... which would probably include killing him as well. Running was out of the question. He'd be a nasty cloud of dust and greasy smoke before he got to the door, and he especially didn't want to die in a room with so many ghosts in it. He hated this room more than any other in the Keep. So did all the staff, which he suspected was why their Overlord made it a point to conduct his business there.
The room looked like a cross between something out of a movie version of the Viking mead hall, and Adolph Hitler's Eagle's Nest. It was large, sumptuous, barbaric, and martial all at the same time. Much of the decor was old, very old in fact. There were ancient battle trophies, captured banners, and battered armor. There were even a few grisly relics dating back to the time when victorious warriors took actual physical souvenirs from the bodies of their slain enemies. There were weapons, most ancient, some quite modern. And there were hunting trophies, some quite macabre. All of them bespoke the nature of the bloodline that had called Ordak Keep home for longer than humans had had anything that they could call a civilization. Almost all of it was so old that it was more of an archeology exhibit than it was anything else. It dated from the days when a conqueror could go out and, by his martial prowess, seize as much of the world as his strength allowed.....and kill those that he'd dispossessed in the seizing. It had been a long time since Antar had had the luxury of supporting such a predator.
The current owner of that room and its contents missed the good old days. The last seventy odd terrestrial years of Antar's history was proof of that. As if in further proof of that contention, that owner stopped his anger driven pacing and stalked over to a glass case that was his own contribution to the room's décor. Inside it, on display, was a tunic that had obviously seen better days. The pants, blouse, and jacket were torn and deeply stained with old blood that nearly obscured the embroidered coat of arms on the jacket's breast pocket, the family crest of the Antarian royal house. K'var stood staring at the contents of the case. Heretofore contemplating them and the fate of their previous owner could always calm him in his all too frequent moments of fury. It wasn't working this time though. "Faugh!" he thought. "The sanctimonious bastard is giving me more trouble *dead* than he ever did alive."
Spinning on the senior scientist's assistant he said, "All right. Explain to me again how the prisoner was able to get a thought through our suppression screens? She was supposed to be cut off and totally isolated. Her family probably knows that she's not on Earth anymore. They know where she isn't, but not where she *is*. If she can make contact with them, however fleeting, and they get a fix on her position; they could attempt a rescue, or an
assassination to prevent her use as a hostage.....marginal though that use is."
The junior researcher stared straight ahead. "As my superior tried to tell you before you...terminated that conversation, her mind didn't get out. Someone got in and *pulled* her mind out. Once the intrusion was detected, we were able to adjust the shield frequency to compensate. It won't happen again."
K'var's fists were clenched at his sides, lest he strangle the man. Angry though he was, he knew that there was a practical limit to how many subordinates he could kill....no matter how much he wanted to. "As I told your late superior, it should *not* have been possible to begin with. I want to know how it happened." K'var shuddered. He had his own theory about how it had happened. He simply didn't want to believe it. Those shields were intended to be impenetrable dampers against Antarian energies. That was it...against *Antarian* energies. He shuddered again. No, it wasn't possible. "If our defenses have one weak point, then they have others. And I will not tolerate *any*. She was connected to whoever it was for far too long. Long enough the recite the Protocols of Shatal if she'd had a mind to. Certainly long enough to tell someone where she was being held, assuming that she knows."
When the assistant made as if to speak K'var cut him off. "Don't bother with excuses. Just be more alert, or join your superior in his 'retirement'." He paused then said, "Is the pregnancy still proceeding normally?"
The assistant frowned. "Sir, there is no 'normal' in this. There is no precedent to go by. Both fetuses are well developed and robust. The pregnancy is proceeding. That's all that I can say without seeing the original specifications used to construct the subject."
K'var sneered. "Fetuses...plural. What better proof do we need that we're dealing with animals? Normal sapient races drop one brat at a time. Even the Shifters and the other 'made' species throw one at a time. Only animals drop litters!"
The assistant nodded silently. He had his own thoughts on the matter.
"You can forget the original specifications as well," K'var added. "They're dust, along with the minds that conceived them."
The assistant had his own ideas on *that* as well, but remained silent on the issue. He hated waste, and the destruction of knowledge was *always* a waste. However, resource pressure had made opportunities for cutting edge science rare for centuries on Antar. He wasn't about to waste his.
"Review the agenda that I laid out with your predecessor," K'var snapped. "As hostages the brats may be worthless, but as lab animals they'll be priceless. Having two infants gives us a spare in case we accidentally use one up. As soon as is practicable post-partum you will place one in suspension against mischance."
"What will we do with the mother?"
K'var smiled without humor. "Let me worry about that when the time comes. Now get out of here, new Chief Researcher, and do a better job than your former leader."
The new Chief of Research beat a hasty retreat, scuffing through the dust that was his former supervisor. As he did so K'var snarled, "Pick up your feet...and tell the servants on your way out to get in here and clean that mess up before it gets all over everything." The door closed quietly as K'var stalked over to stare down at the tattered and stained tunic. "I have everything that used to be yours Zan," he muttered, "and one day I'll have everything that's yours now. I promise you, there will be no third chance for you."
***THE DREAM STATE***
Isabel found herself in a strange place. She was alone in a forest, at night, outside of a building that looked run down and abandoned. She was standing in a weed grown track in front of massive double doors. Between the doors and the construction, the place looked as forbidding as any fortress might. It was cold here in a more than a physical way, and the trees creaked and moaned in the wind, as if murmuring a dirge amongst themselves. The overall feeling was one of terrible dread. Something bad was going to happen here, and soon. Isabel however couldn't afford the luxury of fear, so she paused there for only a moment before leaning her weight against the doors, first the right one, with no success. Then she leaned against the left door, which gave with a long loud creaking noise that made her cringe.
The inside beyond the doors was black as pitch. She closed her eyes, focused on her need, and light flared as a powerful flashlight appeared in her hand. She stepped inside and panned the broad beam around the room. There were signs of recent occupancy. Boxes, bags, a cook stove, camp stools, and water bottles. The room gave two simultaneous impressions. It was old and disused, but the current occupants were very neat and organized. A heavy door to one side of the room was cracked ever so slightly. Walking over to it she listened. The sound of soft snores drifted to her hearing. She drew a deep breath and was preparing to try and finesse the door open when another sound came to her, floating down the nearby stairs. Music. It was the "Righteous Brothers" again. She smiled softly. He had to have known that she'd be coming. "Trust Alex to leave a trail of bread crumbs," she sighed.
Her heart was starting to beat faster before she'd even tackled the stairs. She went up the stairs quickly, taking them two steps at a time, heedless of the creaking of the treads. Pausing at the top she listened. The song had just restarted. Tracking the soft strains of "Unchained Melody" to an alcove in the hall she stood looking up a ladder. Giving an exasperated sigh she muttered, "He couldn't make it easy, could he? What does he think I am, a mountain goat?" She tied her hair back in a rough ponytail, tucked her flashlight into a pocket, and began to climb. Reaching the top she emerged from a trap door into a space that looked like a large phone booth. With a groan she hauled herself up out of the trap door and onto the floor of the guard shack. Turning she found herself facing the door. Never bothered by heights she walked out onto a catwalk that was apparently a part of the building's roof.
There he was, sitting quietly, wrapped in a large blanket looking out over the night-shrouded forest. Next to him a CD player continued to pump out the crooning half sad yearning strains of the "Righteous Brothers". Without turning he spoke. "You found me."
Isabel snorted. "It wasn't that hard. Besides, this is a dream, we can do anything that we want to here. It's self-generated virtual reality. I could have made night time into broad daylight, and summoned a bulldozer to knock this place down around your ears until I found you." She paused. "But its *your* dream and I'm just a guest, so I let you set the rules. I just followed the music." Her voice sharpened slightly. "Like I let you play drunken games with me yesterday night."
Alex stirred and turned to look at her. "You look cold. Come over here."
There was a crate that Alex was using as a backrest. He pushed it backwards to make more room and spread his knees, inviting her to sit down. Isabel remained stubborn for a moment, then decided that this was no time to play childish games. She walked over and gracefully sat down. Before she could slide back against him she felt his hands at her ponytail.
"Hair like yours should always be worn down," he murmured, as he loosened the binding and combed it out with his fingers. "This is how I always see you in my mind, like you were in school. You looked like an angel the first time that I saw you. You always did. You still do." Then he slid one arm around her waist and tightened, as his other arm drew the blanket that he'd been using around them both .
Isabel shivered as she felt herself drawn back against his warmth. She wanted to do nothing more than relax into it and savor it, but she had a purpose here, and she needed to get it done. She wasn't leaving here without a commitment from Alex. And that was all there was to it. All the same, she sighed happily as she said, "This doesn't get you off the hook. You were drunk and disorderly last night."
Alex shuddered. "I know that....believe me I know. My head felt awful this morning. But it wasn't my fault Iz, honest."
She snorted. "I know that. Your friends and I are going to have a long talk together, especially that red head and I."
"It wasn't really their fault either. It was unexpected. I didn't expect one sip of booze to drop me in my tracks. There's only one sort of person that I know of off hand with that sort of low liquor tolerance."
Isabel stiffened and swung her legs, half turning in his lap. "Are you serious?"
Alex shrugged. "You said that Max tried to heal me. He must have had some effect at least." He chuckled. "You can tell him that his low alcohol tolerance seems to be infectious."
Isabel giggled. "Oh, this is just too good. I don't think that Liz will care that much, but Kyle is just going to go ballistic when he finds out." The she murmured half to herself. "I wonder if he's done any drinking since his powers began to manifest?"
It was Alex's turn to stiffen. "Whoa! Valenti? Powers manifesting? What's been happening in Roswell?"
Isabel sighed. "I have a lot to tell you." She snuggled in and began to talk, leaving out the only the news relating to Tess and her visit to Kyle's mind before coming to him. Alex still believed that Tess was his killer. Telling him otherwise would take a lot more time than she could spend right now. As Alex listened she could feel his recently acquired muscles stiffening to piano wire tension levels. He was ready to fight, for her, for them. The thought warmed her and saddened her at the same time. Was her gentle musician gone forever?
"Damn it," he snarled. "I should be there, instead of stuck in this *mess*." He pulled her closer, his protective vibe winding higher. "Before now I was just scared and worried, now I'm pissed off."
"Good!" she thought. "Pissed off will help keep you alive until I reach you." Then she spoke aloud. "Then we agree," she said, leaning into his pull. "We're on our way to get you now."
Alex shuddered. "Iz, you guys have *got* to stay out of this...."
Isabel stiffened and sat up, pulling away. "Bullshit!" she said with firm if unladylike invective. "We're involved whether you want us to be or not, because we choose to be." She softened a little and reached to cup her soul mate's cheeks, stroking slightly. "Alex, do you regret getting involved with me...with us?"
Alex tried to hang tough, looking stern. "That isn't the point. By the time I knew the deal I was already in. I was *involved* the moment that Max healed Liz. I just didn't know it yet."
Isabel giggled. "You're so cute when you're wrong. Look me in the eye and tell me that, had you known the whole deal and had the option, you would have turned away from us, from me."
Alex hung his head and said in a low voice, "No, never."
"That settles it then," she said firmly. "What goes around comes around. We're already a part of you, as you are a part of us. Everything that happens to you happens to me, literally now. As you're angry because you weren't there to fight for us, we're angry because we aren't here to fight for *you*. Even if you could keep me away physically, my heart and my soul will be here, with you. Because I love you and because it's what I choose."
He felt ten feet tall and his heart was ready to burst, but Alex fought his feelings and sighed. "It may be over before you get here." Silently he added, "I hope", to that statement.
Isabel shrugged, and then she swung her knees under her body to gain a kneeling position. "Well it won't be because we didn't try. Someone exacted a promise from me tonight, to stay with the group no matter what. I intend to stand by that promise, even if I *don't* like it. But you can bet the techno toy of your choice that we'll be trying to get to you right up to the last possible minute."
Silently blessing whoever it was that had extracted that promise from his stubborn as hell beloved, Alex pulled his feet back and swung them aside so that he could scramble to his knees as well. "That's all that I can ask for, and all that I can hope for I guess. I love you Isabel, and I love the rest of our slightly wacky little family. I just don't want you hurt."
Isabel's hands slid down Alex's sides as they knelt face to face; their shifting positions had disarranged their blanket, so she pulled it up and around them both. Like a cocoon. Something to shut out the outside world. "Silly man," she murmured. "If anything happens to you I'll be hurt whether I'm here or not. So you'll forgive me for wanting to prevent anything from happening to you."
Alex chuckled and let his hands roam under the blanket as Isabel snuggled closer. She was almost purring.
"Love, you're the most stubborn woman that I've ever met, this side of Liz and Maria."
"Bet me?" she retorted. "When it involves you, no one beats me, not even them though they love you to death. Not now. Not anymore."
"Which is why I won't try to talk you out of being pissed at my friends here," he began, before she overrode him.
"You'd better not. Your Cassandra and I are going to have words, one way or another."
Alex winced, but kept her close and kept his hands in motion so as to distract her from her current thoughts.
"Just get to know them first? They meant well....."
Isabel chuckled, with just a hint of evil in her laughter. "The road to hell is paved with good intentions, Alex."
Sighing deeply Alex decided that discretion was the better part of valor. They had other bridges to cross and other crises to deal with before this became an issue. There was no need to settle everything now. And besides, his friends were grown ups. "Okay, skip it. Just tell me one thing. Last night, was it really bad in my dreams?"
Isabel giggled as she laid her head on his shoulder, her hands kneading his back. "Oh, it wasn't bad so much as it was frustrating. It was like a carnival fun house turned inside out. Rock and Roll Heaven meets the Looney Tunes. I felt like Elmer Fudd in pursuit of Bugs Bunny. I couldn't nail you down long enough to accomplish anything, so I finally gave up and sat down to wait for you to find *me*."
Alex paused, trying to figure out how to phrase his next question. "Er, Izzy? How exactly were you dressed?"
At the moment she was wearing jeans and a pullover. Snickering inside Isabel knew that the next few moments were about to become a treasured memory.
"Oh, I was in my usual red PJ's when I went to bed, but your dream dressed me up as Alice in Wonderland, pinafore and all. After you passed out, I changed into the PJ's again so that I could sleep with you."
Alex stiffened slightly as he felt the material under his hands morph suddenly to thin silky smoothness. He didn't need to see the color to know. It was red satin. "Oh, okay," he said, as he half focused on hoping that she hadn't seen the more pornographic version of herself, and half focused on the heaven of having so little between her skin and his hands. He was making the most of it when her last words penetrated his brain. "Sleep with me?"
came out in an almost boyish falsetto.
Since he couldn't see her face, Isabel grinned wickedly over his shoulder. This was fun! "Of course that was after a long and boring time spent waiting in bed for you, wearing something a little different."
Alex froze as the already thin material suddenly became almost nonexistent. Suddenly it was as if he were embracing a cross between an erotic dream and a living flame....all covered in sheer silk. "Isabel?" he croaked as his hands began a skittish exploration of some very new territory, for both of them.
Isabel felt herself flush, her personal heat being born of equal parts of embarrassment and lust. “Am I pushing him too hard? What if he doesn't like 'me'?” she wondered...then she caught a paralyzing breath. His halting and wondering exploration had taken his inexperienced hands down past the hemline of her teddy...and into thong territory. His hands were hesitant at first, with a feather light touch, as she forced herself to relax and let him set the pace. Finally they grew firm.....more confident as he pulled her bottom in, pressing her hips firmly against his. Pulling his head back so he could reach her mouth he found her more than ready to match him as her arms slid up and curled themselves around his neck.
Their mouths opened and their tongues met immediately as any hesitancy was blown away by a hunger and need that bordered on starvation. Alex gave a stifled groan as his hands and arms bore down with almost bruising force, as if he were trying to weld her to himself, as if....
Isabel moaned deeply as something primal began to stir in her belly. It was something enormous, hungry, and powerful; a need which made mere lust pale into insignificance. It had been waiting a long time, and it wanted *out*.....it wanted....
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.
STILL YOURS - Part 18h
(Irresistible Forces and Immovable Objects)
The Trophy Room....Ordak Keep.......Antar
The senior project scientist had died without uttering a sound. Whether it was because his death was so sudden or because he'd known that arguing his case with his overlord was useless was moot. Both were equally true, and he was equally dead either way. Standing next to the smear of dust and grease that currently comprised his late superior, the project second in command awaited his superior's pleasure.... which would probably include killing him as well. Running was out of the question. He'd be a nasty cloud of dust and greasy smoke before he got to the door, and he especially didn't want to die in a room with so many ghosts in it. He hated this room more than any other in the Keep. So did all the staff, which he suspected was why their Overlord made it a point to conduct his business there.
The room looked like a cross between something out of a movie version of the Viking mead hall, and Adolph Hitler's Eagle's Nest. It was large, sumptuous, barbaric, and martial all at the same time. Much of the decor was old, very old in fact. There were ancient battle trophies, captured banners, and battered armor. There were even a few grisly relics dating back to the time when victorious warriors took actual physical souvenirs from the bodies of their slain enemies. There were weapons, most ancient, some quite modern. And there were hunting trophies, some quite macabre. All of them bespoke the nature of the bloodline that had called Ordak Keep home for longer than humans had had anything that they could call a civilization. Almost all of it was so old that it was more of an archeology exhibit than it was anything else. It dated from the days when a conqueror could go out and, by his martial prowess, seize as much of the world as his strength allowed.....and kill those that he'd dispossessed in the seizing. It had been a long time since Antar had had the luxury of supporting such a predator.
The current owner of that room and its contents missed the good old days. The last seventy odd terrestrial years of Antar's history was proof of that. As if in further proof of that contention, that owner stopped his anger driven pacing and stalked over to a glass case that was his own contribution to the room's décor. Inside it, on display, was a tunic that had obviously seen better days. The pants, blouse, and jacket were torn and deeply stained with old blood that nearly obscured the embroidered coat of arms on the jacket's breast pocket, the family crest of the Antarian royal house. K'var stood staring at the contents of the case. Heretofore contemplating them and the fate of their previous owner could always calm him in his all too frequent moments of fury. It wasn't working this time though. "Faugh!" he thought. "The sanctimonious bastard is giving me more trouble *dead* than he ever did alive."
Spinning on the senior scientist's assistant he said, "All right. Explain to me again how the prisoner was able to get a thought through our suppression screens? She was supposed to be cut off and totally isolated. Her family probably knows that she's not on Earth anymore. They know where she isn't, but not where she *is*. If she can make contact with them, however fleeting, and they get a fix on her position; they could attempt a rescue, or an
assassination to prevent her use as a hostage.....marginal though that use is."
The junior researcher stared straight ahead. "As my superior tried to tell you before you...terminated that conversation, her mind didn't get out. Someone got in and *pulled* her mind out. Once the intrusion was detected, we were able to adjust the shield frequency to compensate. It won't happen again."
K'var's fists were clenched at his sides, lest he strangle the man. Angry though he was, he knew that there was a practical limit to how many subordinates he could kill....no matter how much he wanted to. "As I told your late superior, it should *not* have been possible to begin with. I want to know how it happened." K'var shuddered. He had his own theory about how it had happened. He simply didn't want to believe it. Those shields were intended to be impenetrable dampers against Antarian energies. That was it...against *Antarian* energies. He shuddered again. No, it wasn't possible. "If our defenses have one weak point, then they have others. And I will not tolerate *any*. She was connected to whoever it was for far too long. Long enough the recite the Protocols of Shatal if she'd had a mind to. Certainly long enough to tell someone where she was being held, assuming that she knows."
When the assistant made as if to speak K'var cut him off. "Don't bother with excuses. Just be more alert, or join your superior in his 'retirement'." He paused then said, "Is the pregnancy still proceeding normally?"
The assistant frowned. "Sir, there is no 'normal' in this. There is no precedent to go by. Both fetuses are well developed and robust. The pregnancy is proceeding. That's all that I can say without seeing the original specifications used to construct the subject."
K'var sneered. "Fetuses...plural. What better proof do we need that we're dealing with animals? Normal sapient races drop one brat at a time. Even the Shifters and the other 'made' species throw one at a time. Only animals drop litters!"
The assistant nodded silently. He had his own thoughts on the matter.
"You can forget the original specifications as well," K'var added. "They're dust, along with the minds that conceived them."
The assistant had his own ideas on *that* as well, but remained silent on the issue. He hated waste, and the destruction of knowledge was *always* a waste. However, resource pressure had made opportunities for cutting edge science rare for centuries on Antar. He wasn't about to waste his.
"Review the agenda that I laid out with your predecessor," K'var snapped. "As hostages the brats may be worthless, but as lab animals they'll be priceless. Having two infants gives us a spare in case we accidentally use one up. As soon as is practicable post-partum you will place one in suspension against mischance."
"What will we do with the mother?"
K'var smiled without humor. "Let me worry about that when the time comes. Now get out of here, new Chief Researcher, and do a better job than your former leader."
The new Chief of Research beat a hasty retreat, scuffing through the dust that was his former supervisor. As he did so K'var snarled, "Pick up your feet...and tell the servants on your way out to get in here and clean that mess up before it gets all over everything." The door closed quietly as K'var stalked over to stare down at the tattered and stained tunic. "I have everything that used to be yours Zan," he muttered, "and one day I'll have everything that's yours now. I promise you, there will be no third chance for you."
***THE DREAM STATE***
Isabel found herself in a strange place. She was alone in a forest, at night, outside of a building that looked run down and abandoned. She was standing in a weed grown track in front of massive double doors. Between the doors and the construction, the place looked as forbidding as any fortress might. It was cold here in a more than a physical way, and the trees creaked and moaned in the wind, as if murmuring a dirge amongst themselves. The overall feeling was one of terrible dread. Something bad was going to happen here, and soon. Isabel however couldn't afford the luxury of fear, so she paused there for only a moment before leaning her weight against the doors, first the right one, with no success. Then she leaned against the left door, which gave with a long loud creaking noise that made her cringe.
The inside beyond the doors was black as pitch. She closed her eyes, focused on her need, and light flared as a powerful flashlight appeared in her hand. She stepped inside and panned the broad beam around the room. There were signs of recent occupancy. Boxes, bags, a cook stove, camp stools, and water bottles. The room gave two simultaneous impressions. It was old and disused, but the current occupants were very neat and organized. A heavy door to one side of the room was cracked ever so slightly. Walking over to it she listened. The sound of soft snores drifted to her hearing. She drew a deep breath and was preparing to try and finesse the door open when another sound came to her, floating down the nearby stairs. Music. It was the "Righteous Brothers" again. She smiled softly. He had to have known that she'd be coming. "Trust Alex to leave a trail of bread crumbs," she sighed.
Her heart was starting to beat faster before she'd even tackled the stairs. She went up the stairs quickly, taking them two steps at a time, heedless of the creaking of the treads. Pausing at the top she listened. The song had just restarted. Tracking the soft strains of "Unchained Melody" to an alcove in the hall she stood looking up a ladder. Giving an exasperated sigh she muttered, "He couldn't make it easy, could he? What does he think I am, a mountain goat?" She tied her hair back in a rough ponytail, tucked her flashlight into a pocket, and began to climb. Reaching the top she emerged from a trap door into a space that looked like a large phone booth. With a groan she hauled herself up out of the trap door and onto the floor of the guard shack. Turning she found herself facing the door. Never bothered by heights she walked out onto a catwalk that was apparently a part of the building's roof.
There he was, sitting quietly, wrapped in a large blanket looking out over the night-shrouded forest. Next to him a CD player continued to pump out the crooning half sad yearning strains of the "Righteous Brothers". Without turning he spoke. "You found me."
Isabel snorted. "It wasn't that hard. Besides, this is a dream, we can do anything that we want to here. It's self-generated virtual reality. I could have made night time into broad daylight, and summoned a bulldozer to knock this place down around your ears until I found you." She paused. "But its *your* dream and I'm just a guest, so I let you set the rules. I just followed the music." Her voice sharpened slightly. "Like I let you play drunken games with me yesterday night."
Alex stirred and turned to look at her. "You look cold. Come over here."
There was a crate that Alex was using as a backrest. He pushed it backwards to make more room and spread his knees, inviting her to sit down. Isabel remained stubborn for a moment, then decided that this was no time to play childish games. She walked over and gracefully sat down. Before she could slide back against him she felt his hands at her ponytail.
"Hair like yours should always be worn down," he murmured, as he loosened the binding and combed it out with his fingers. "This is how I always see you in my mind, like you were in school. You looked like an angel the first time that I saw you. You always did. You still do." Then he slid one arm around her waist and tightened, as his other arm drew the blanket that he'd been using around them both .
Isabel shivered as she felt herself drawn back against his warmth. She wanted to do nothing more than relax into it and savor it, but she had a purpose here, and she needed to get it done. She wasn't leaving here without a commitment from Alex. And that was all there was to it. All the same, she sighed happily as she said, "This doesn't get you off the hook. You were drunk and disorderly last night."
Alex shuddered. "I know that....believe me I know. My head felt awful this morning. But it wasn't my fault Iz, honest."
She snorted. "I know that. Your friends and I are going to have a long talk together, especially that red head and I."
"It wasn't really their fault either. It was unexpected. I didn't expect one sip of booze to drop me in my tracks. There's only one sort of person that I know of off hand with that sort of low liquor tolerance."
Isabel stiffened and swung her legs, half turning in his lap. "Are you serious?"
Alex shrugged. "You said that Max tried to heal me. He must have had some effect at least." He chuckled. "You can tell him that his low alcohol tolerance seems to be infectious."
Isabel giggled. "Oh, this is just too good. I don't think that Liz will care that much, but Kyle is just going to go ballistic when he finds out." The she murmured half to herself. "I wonder if he's done any drinking since his powers began to manifest?"
It was Alex's turn to stiffen. "Whoa! Valenti? Powers manifesting? What's been happening in Roswell?"
Isabel sighed. "I have a lot to tell you." She snuggled in and began to talk, leaving out the only the news relating to Tess and her visit to Kyle's mind before coming to him. Alex still believed that Tess was his killer. Telling him otherwise would take a lot more time than she could spend right now. As Alex listened she could feel his recently acquired muscles stiffening to piano wire tension levels. He was ready to fight, for her, for them. The thought warmed her and saddened her at the same time. Was her gentle musician gone forever?
"Damn it," he snarled. "I should be there, instead of stuck in this *mess*." He pulled her closer, his protective vibe winding higher. "Before now I was just scared and worried, now I'm pissed off."
"Good!" she thought. "Pissed off will help keep you alive until I reach you." Then she spoke aloud. "Then we agree," she said, leaning into his pull. "We're on our way to get you now."
Alex shuddered. "Iz, you guys have *got* to stay out of this...."
Isabel stiffened and sat up, pulling away. "Bullshit!" she said with firm if unladylike invective. "We're involved whether you want us to be or not, because we choose to be." She softened a little and reached to cup her soul mate's cheeks, stroking slightly. "Alex, do you regret getting involved with me...with us?"
Alex tried to hang tough, looking stern. "That isn't the point. By the time I knew the deal I was already in. I was *involved* the moment that Max healed Liz. I just didn't know it yet."
Isabel giggled. "You're so cute when you're wrong. Look me in the eye and tell me that, had you known the whole deal and had the option, you would have turned away from us, from me."
Alex hung his head and said in a low voice, "No, never."
"That settles it then," she said firmly. "What goes around comes around. We're already a part of you, as you are a part of us. Everything that happens to you happens to me, literally now. As you're angry because you weren't there to fight for us, we're angry because we aren't here to fight for *you*. Even if you could keep me away physically, my heart and my soul will be here, with you. Because I love you and because it's what I choose."
He felt ten feet tall and his heart was ready to burst, but Alex fought his feelings and sighed. "It may be over before you get here." Silently he added, "I hope", to that statement.
Isabel shrugged, and then she swung her knees under her body to gain a kneeling position. "Well it won't be because we didn't try. Someone exacted a promise from me tonight, to stay with the group no matter what. I intend to stand by that promise, even if I *don't* like it. But you can bet the techno toy of your choice that we'll be trying to get to you right up to the last possible minute."
Silently blessing whoever it was that had extracted that promise from his stubborn as hell beloved, Alex pulled his feet back and swung them aside so that he could scramble to his knees as well. "That's all that I can ask for, and all that I can hope for I guess. I love you Isabel, and I love the rest of our slightly wacky little family. I just don't want you hurt."
Isabel's hands slid down Alex's sides as they knelt face to face; their shifting positions had disarranged their blanket, so she pulled it up and around them both. Like a cocoon. Something to shut out the outside world. "Silly man," she murmured. "If anything happens to you I'll be hurt whether I'm here or not. So you'll forgive me for wanting to prevent anything from happening to you."
Alex chuckled and let his hands roam under the blanket as Isabel snuggled closer. She was almost purring.
"Love, you're the most stubborn woman that I've ever met, this side of Liz and Maria."
"Bet me?" she retorted. "When it involves you, no one beats me, not even them though they love you to death. Not now. Not anymore."
"Which is why I won't try to talk you out of being pissed at my friends here," he began, before she overrode him.
"You'd better not. Your Cassandra and I are going to have words, one way or another."
Alex winced, but kept her close and kept his hands in motion so as to distract her from her current thoughts.
"Just get to know them first? They meant well....."
Isabel chuckled, with just a hint of evil in her laughter. "The road to hell is paved with good intentions, Alex."
Sighing deeply Alex decided that discretion was the better part of valor. They had other bridges to cross and other crises to deal with before this became an issue. There was no need to settle everything now. And besides, his friends were grown ups. "Okay, skip it. Just tell me one thing. Last night, was it really bad in my dreams?"
Isabel giggled as she laid her head on his shoulder, her hands kneading his back. "Oh, it wasn't bad so much as it was frustrating. It was like a carnival fun house turned inside out. Rock and Roll Heaven meets the Looney Tunes. I felt like Elmer Fudd in pursuit of Bugs Bunny. I couldn't nail you down long enough to accomplish anything, so I finally gave up and sat down to wait for you to find *me*."
Alex paused, trying to figure out how to phrase his next question. "Er, Izzy? How exactly were you dressed?"
At the moment she was wearing jeans and a pullover. Snickering inside Isabel knew that the next few moments were about to become a treasured memory.
"Oh, I was in my usual red PJ's when I went to bed, but your dream dressed me up as Alice in Wonderland, pinafore and all. After you passed out, I changed into the PJ's again so that I could sleep with you."
Alex stiffened slightly as he felt the material under his hands morph suddenly to thin silky smoothness. He didn't need to see the color to know. It was red satin. "Oh, okay," he said, as he half focused on hoping that she hadn't seen the more pornographic version of herself, and half focused on the heaven of having so little between her skin and his hands. He was making the most of it when her last words penetrated his brain. "Sleep with me?"
came out in an almost boyish falsetto.
Since he couldn't see her face, Isabel grinned wickedly over his shoulder. This was fun! "Of course that was after a long and boring time spent waiting in bed for you, wearing something a little different."
Alex froze as the already thin material suddenly became almost nonexistent. Suddenly it was as if he were embracing a cross between an erotic dream and a living flame....all covered in sheer silk. "Isabel?" he croaked as his hands began a skittish exploration of some very new territory, for both of them.
Isabel felt herself flush, her personal heat being born of equal parts of embarrassment and lust. “Am I pushing him too hard? What if he doesn't like 'me'?” she wondered...then she caught a paralyzing breath. His halting and wondering exploration had taken his inexperienced hands down past the hemline of her teddy...and into thong territory. His hands were hesitant at first, with a feather light touch, as she forced herself to relax and let him set the pace. Finally they grew firm.....more confident as he pulled her bottom in, pressing her hips firmly against his. Pulling his head back so he could reach her mouth he found her more than ready to match him as her arms slid up and curled themselves around his neck.
Their mouths opened and their tongues met immediately as any hesitancy was blown away by a hunger and need that bordered on starvation. Alex gave a stifled groan as his hands and arms bore down with almost bruising force, as if he were trying to weld her to himself, as if....
Isabel moaned deeply as something primal began to stir in her belly. It was something enormous, hungry, and powerful; a need which made mere lust pale into insignificance. It had been waiting a long time, and it wanted *out*.....it wanted....
Last edited by Kzinti_Killer on Wed Apr 20, 2005 4:07 am, edited 3 times in total.
Dragons, Ogres, & Pretty Boy Lawyers Slain, Reasonable Rates, Call After 5:00 At 1-900-OhMyGodWhatWereTheyThinkingOf
"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
-- Henry Jenkins
"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
-- Henry Jenkins
-
Kzinti_Killer
- Administrator
- Posts: 1019
- Joined: Fri Feb 22, 2002 6:44 am
- Location: High Reaches Weyr, Northern Pern
Title: Still Yours
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.
STILL YOURS - Part 18i
(Irresistible Forces and Immovable Objects)
Happy Travelers Campground....Same Time
Maria DeLuca tossed and turned trying to get comfortable, then her eyes snapped open. "Damn it," she muttered. "I should have gone to the bathroom before bed!" She lay there for a moment, gathering herself, and then she sighed with disgust. To reach the bathroom in the RV she'd have to get past her mother. Her mother who slept like a cat and always woke up like a bear at the end of winter. That was out of the question. This would mean a long nighttime walk, which she wasn't going to make alone. That meant waking Isabel, since taking Liz would leave Isabel unguarded, and that wasn't going to happen. With their sort of luck they'd come back and find her gone, gone, gone. Suddenly she registered something. The girl next to her was breathing like a distance runner in a long sprint.
Maria sat up quickly and stared at Isabel Evans. Isabel had thrown off her blanket. Tonight she'd elected to sleep in an old tee shirt of Alex's that his parents had given her after his funeral. Despite the brief attire, she was sweating profusely, and she was lying unnaturally still. A worried Maria, thinking that her girl friend was having a nightmare, reached out with her hand to shake her awake. Suddenly Isabel moaned a name. A name spoken with deep need, the sort of need that Maria recognized.
"Alex!" Isabel moaned aloud.
Maria gasped softly as she jerked her hand back. She was torn by conflicting emotions. Horror at the violation of witnessing such private moment for her two friends, satisfaction at what she thought was finally happening, and a fiendish sort of delight at an opportunity to tease her friend about it tomorrow. She looked over at Liz. She was asleep. The three friends were all on air mattresses in the main living area, while Amy was safely ensconced in the master sleeping area behind a soundproof door....along with the bathroom. So Maria settled in for the show.
"The bathroom can wait," she muttered.
No sooner were the words out of her mouth though than she was choking on them as she watched the first glowing spot come into being, travel up her friend's arm, and disappear. It had lasted for only a moment. So little time that she was sure that she'd been mistaken..... until other faint blue trails of phosphorescent fire began to trace lazy paths over Isabel's skin. Slowly at first, and then with increasing speed and density. They were getting brighter too.
"Maria what...?" came Liz's sleepy voice.
"Shhhh!" Maria hissed. "If you wake her, she'll *never* forgive you. Hell, *I'll* never forgive you!"
"Huh? What?" Liz was only confused for a moment, and then her eyes registered what she had a front row seat for. "Holy shit!" she hissed as she grinned at Maria. "The others are gonna flip out!"
Maria grinned back, fit to bust. "You got *that* right!" She looked down at her friend who was still breathing heavily. The blue fire flies were moving with purpose now as they merged and split, moving with maniacal speed. They had nearly covered her completely. It wouldn't be long now. Maria reached out to stroke Isabel's hair in support, but not wanting to interrupt the moment, she stopped short. "C'mon," she whispered softly in encouragement. "C'mon girl friend. To quote my better half, 'kick one between the uprights'!"
Bear Run Asylum.....Same Time
Cassandra was being shaken violently awake. While still half asleep she lashed out blindly, seized her would be assailant, and twisted her body so that she could place a chokehold on whoever it was. However her attacker was knowledgeable enough to get a forearm between her throat and the inside of Cassandra's forearm. "Knock it off Tinkerbell," rasped a female voice. "This is an emergency!"
The identity of the speaker finally penetrated her sleep-fogged brain and her eyes snapped open. "Huh? What? Amanda I was...."
"Shut up!" Amanda hissed. "There's no time for you to chew me out. Something has got Alex!"
"What? What are you talking about?" Cass snapped as she scrambled to her feet. Ice water was churning in her guts. "Why didn't you get Duncan?" she hissed.
Amanda began tugging at Cass's arm urgently, dragging her out into the main room, up the stairs, and down the hall, towards Alex and Richie's room. "I was restless, so I was going up to check on Duncan when I passed Alex and Richie's room. At first I thought that they'd left their lantern on. Then I looked inside." Amanda swallowed. "This *isn't* something that Duncan can handle."
They were almost there, and Cass could see an unearthly blue light that flickered and danced that shown out of the doorway to do a flickering dance on the hallway floor. As Amanda dragged her through the door Cassandra gasped at what she saw. Alex was almost entirely surrounded in a nimbus of blue light that shivered and danced across his flesh like a living thing.
"It wasn't their lantern," Amanda hissed. "I can't wake him. When I try I get knocked on my ass by something like a little Quickening. And I haven't bothered the others," she said as she indicated an oblivious and soundly sleeping Richie, "because they'd be useless." Amanda spoke now with rough urgency. "This is your territory Glinda. Get in there and *do* something."
Still not thinking clearly, and driven by Amanda's wild fear Cassandra slumped back against the wall of the room, seizing Amanda's hand as she slid down into sitting posture. "All right, it'll take a minute."
"We don't *have* a minute!" Amanda said aloud. Richie groaned and began to set up, finally disturbed enough to wake up. "See?" she said. "Get in there!"
Cassandra hesitated only long enough to glance at where Alex lay. He was completely sheathed in blue light now. Her decision made, she turned inward abruptly, diving into the undermind at full emergency speed, without even bothering with the preliminary mantra first. Her last shred of consciousness registered Richie's voice speaking in panic.
"What the hell is going on here?!"
***THE DREAM STATE***
It was happening again. Alex and Isabel were lost in that warm golden haze again as they enfolded each other in desperate hunger that was beyond lust and love, yet which could not exist without both. In their own world, high atop the catwalk, the blanket fell away to reveal them in all their glory. They were surrounded in sparkling blue fire that shown like a beacon. And that was only the beginning. It was time for the grand finale. The two lovers held each other ever tighter, seeking to make themselves one person. Not knowing, in their passion, that they were about to get their wish. The barrier that separated their souls softened, weakened, and then collapsed....
***FUSION***
It was awake at last, and under unique circumstances. Instead of merging first through the conscious mind, its constituents had merged through the unconscious mind. This gave it a certain freedom of action that its fellow composites had lacked. Dreams were a place of magic and wonder. In the space of only moments landscapes appeared and disappeared; shapes flashed into being that were unimaginable, colors glowed that were indescribable, music that danced the entire aural spectrum and beyond came and went. It was beauty of such poignancy that an ordinary mortal would have barely been able to look at it without bursting into tears. It was an artist.
And like all great artists, it had an audience.
Its attention was broken as a voice spoke. ""Still"" it said.
The composite recognized tones of power, but shrugged them off as inconsequential. Like a duck shedding water from its back.
""STILL, I SAID"" the voice spoke again, trying to assert authority.
"Authority?" It thought in a quandary. "Over me? Over us? The only beings with authority over us are our constituents." The voice was recognized. The Composite felt conflict. Part of it was threatened by the voice, and part of it was warmed.....yet both parts were irritated by the intrusion.
The voice cursed in a dead and forgotten language and said, ""I SAID STILL!""
Regarding the owner of the irritating voice through two pairs of eyes the composite felt a tingle as the other sought to enforce her will. Irritation finally won out. And the composite spoke.
"Not This Time," it intoned with two sets of vocal chords. "Not This Time." And with a casual gesture of the isabel's hand It delivered a wave of ephemeral energy that blew the intruder completely off of the roof. She was still in the air when the composite's better nature enforced its will and It forced her out of the dream plane before she could hit the ground.
The composite felt its energy begin to wane. Its job was done for the here and now. Its constituents were inexperienced and as yet unsealed to each other. Their bodies needed rest. It went back to sleep content though. It didn't know why, it simply knew that this was what was supposed to be.
***FISSION***
Happy Travelers Campground......Now
A sappily grinning Maria high-fived her girl friend across the sleeping body of their friend. "I'd say *that* went well."
Liz snorted, but looked just as pleased as Maria. "We don't know that. We didn't even know that fusion could happen in dreams."
Maria laughed. "We didn't know that it could happen during *sex* either." Michael and I had to trip over that little fact ourselves. Hell, we don't know a *lot* of things." She looked down at Isabel and pursed her lips. "Oh God Liz, she's sweating like she has a fever. We have to do something, or she's going to feel gross in the morning." Maria scrambled to her feet, retrieved two towels from the kitchen area. Returning she tossed one to Liz as she began to cautiously and tenderly blot the exposed skin of her heavily perspiring, newly fused, girl friend.
Liz showed no such caution as she tackled Isabel's legs vigorously.
"Now so hard Liz," Maria remonstrated. "You'll wake her up, and I'm pretty sure that she won't like that."
"Nonsense," Liz shot back. "Just look at her. She was under a long time. Time plays tricks on you in there, so I can't be sure, but she was under longer than we were the first time. And I know for a fact that she and Alex haven't...er..."
"Done the mattress mambo?" Maria challenged.
Liz sighed. "Yes. If they had we'd have been able to read it on them a mile away. They haven't...sealed the deal...so they can't bounce back the way that we can now. They started into this dead tired and asleep, so I'll bet that she and Alex are both going to stay zonked until tomorrow morning."
Maria was copying Liz's vigorous movements now, lifting the lower hem of Isabel's tee shirt so that she could reach the skin beneath it with her towel. "Well, that sucks," she muttered. "I'm going to die of curiosity between now and then."
Liz nodded. "Me too."
Maria looked down at their recumbent friend and stroked her hair gently. "Girl friend," she queried softly, "just what was with the dialog in the possessed voice? 'Not this time'? Not *what* this time?" Isabel stirred briefly and shivered causing Maria to make a concerned noise. She ran a hand down her friend's arm and gasped. She looked up at Liz and said, "C'mon, lets get her blanket on her, she's freezing!"
They pulled Isabel's blanket up and tucked it in around her, then they stayed with her a while until they were sure that she would be warm enough. Liz was trying to get comfortable again when Maria stood up abruptly. "Don't get relaxed girl. I need a bathroom, and I'm not waking my mother up so that I can use the one in here. You *know* what that means."
Liz groaned. "Now?"
Maria nodded. "Now. I was getting ready to wake Isabel for the trip when the light show started. Nature was calling then. Now she's screaming. Let's go." When Liz glanced nervously at Isabel, Maria chuckled. "Don't worry about her. You were right. She's wiped out for the duration."
"Okay, let’s go and get back," Liz sighed as she let Maria pull her to her feet. Quickly and quietly they pulled on shoes and jackets before heading out the door. As they did so Isabel turned in her sleep, causing them to freeze.
"Isabel?" Maria queried softly.
Her answer was a delicate feminine snore.
Liz stifled a laugh and motioned frantically for Maria to get outside. Once they were out the door they dashed towards the rest room facilities. Only when they got there did they give birth to the laughter that they'd been holding in.
"Oh that's too precious," Liz said. "My future sister-in-law, Princess of an alien planet, snores. I think that I love her more now than I ever have before."
Maria snickered. "It'll make for some great teasing, and great blackmail information."
After the girls had separated to take care of their reason for being there Liz said, "I wonder if Alex knows?"
Maria was sighing with relief when the words reached her. "How could he?" Then she paused as her thoughts focused on Alex for the first time that evening. "I wonder what happened at his end?"
Bear Run Asylum......Moments Earlier
Cassandra's eyes snapped open abruptly as she shrieked, "FALLING. I'M FALLING!"
*That* got everyone's attention nicely, except for a certain young man who would be out like a light until late the next morning. There was a loud thud and a Celtic curse out in the hall as Duncan hit the floor in the alcove after coming down the ladder at full emergency speed. The sound of running feet and another thud...a series of them actually... and some very creative cursing in several languages accompanied the collision of a shoeless, boxer clad Methos with Duncan as he emerged from the alcove. Methos had been moving at a dead run, so they both hit the floor hard.
"Watch wher' you're goin' old man," Duncan snarled, his Highland brogue coming through thickly under stress.. "Thoose were th' family jewels you tagged with th't knee."
"Stuff it junior. They're your jewels. If you want them safe, keep them out of my way. That was Cassandra!" Methos shot back.
Scrambling sounds, muffled grunts, and more cursing came from both men as they disentangled themselves from each other. Again there was the sound of running feet, followed by more cursing as they both tried to lunge through the door of Alex and Richie's room with drawn swords. Once they got inside they saw Amanda crouched over Cassandra, trying to get her to drink from a flask. Richie was squatting next to Alex, blotting his
forehead with a rag.
"What the hell is going on here?" barked Duncan.
Amanda glared at him. "We'll tell you in a minute junior, just keep your pants on." Then she glared at Methos. "And you, go *put* some pants on!"
Methos usually so calm, had been staring wildly at Cassandra. "Huh? What?" he said when his attention swung to Amanda. "She screamed," he grated harshly as he started forward. "If you think for one second that I'm going *anywhere* until I know...." Duncan's hand on his arm stopped him.
Calmer now that he knew that no one was dead he said, "Go on old man, she'll be safe until you get back. My word on it." Duncan could tell that Amanda was on edge and spoiling for a fight.
After taking a deep and audible breath to quell his panic, Methos gave him a wordless look that let him know that his honor was now on the line. Then he silently vanished out the door in search of some clothes.
Duncan looked at Richie who was wearing that look that Duncan had come to recognize after so many centuries. The look of a man who's just been blindsided by the unknown.
"What happened here?"
Richie sighed. "Damned if I know Mac. I woke up to find them arguing," he said, indicating the women. Then he pointed at Alex, "And our friend here was glowing like a neon sign. Blue."
Duncan blinked. "Glowing? Like a Quickening?"
"It wasn't a Quickening," Amanda snapped. "It wasn't anything that I've ever seen, or even *like* anything that I've ever seen. It was hard blue light. It started out like little glowing trails all over him. By the time I got Cass back here it was almost completely solid. I couldn't wake him up to save my life. Every time I tried I got a hell of a jolt. Like my hand was being smacked away from him."
Duncan took a deep breath and counted to ten. "And you didn't notify the rest of us.... why?"
Amanda glared. "This wasn't your territory Duncan. There was nothing that you could have done, and there wasn't time to hold a quorum. Whatever was happening to him was happening so damn fast that I had to prioritize who to get to deal with it. That meant Cass. She was the only one that might have a chance of getting inside to deal with it." She fell silent, but inside her mind a litany went on. "It's my fault. Bad call. My fault."
MacLeod glanced over at their glassy eyed friend. "I'd say that she did that. The question is did she do any good? From the looks of her I'd say that she was the one that got dealt with."
Amanda's temper started to red line. "Do you think that I don't know that?" she hissed, but her budding fury was stymied by a timely interruption.
"Did Cass do any good at what?" came Methos’ query from the doorway. His shirt wasn't buttoned, his belt was hanging open, he had a towel thrown over his shoulder, and he was struggling to get his other shoe on...but he was dressed enough.
Duncan raised an eyebrow. "That's what I'm trying to find out." Then he brought Methos up to speed.
Methos absorbed the information as he went over to where Cassandra was slumped against the wall. Her pallor alarmed him, but not too much. Taking in her glassy eyes he felt her skin, which was clammy, and he took her pulse which was running very fast. “Shock,” he thought. He pointed at the flask in Amanda's hand and snapped his fingers wordlessly. She glared but handed it over.
"It's from your stock. I was going to share it with Duncan when I got sidetracked into this. I tried to get her to drink some, but she wouldn't."
Methos snorted. "You didn't try hard enough." So saying he ruthlessly pried open Cassandra's mouth to pour in a hefty dollop of liquor, and then he pinched her nose to make her swallow. Booze wasn't the best thing for shock, but it was better than nothing. She coughed, choked, and began to wheeze as Methos patted her on the back. The color was coming back to her face...and to her language as well.
Cassandra gasped out something pungent sounding, in a language long dead.
Methos eyebrows rose and he chuckled. "Now I'm pretty sure that my mother knew my father, even if I wasn’t their blood born son. And as for the goat, forget it. My family raised sheep."
Cassandra half laughed as she wiped streaming eyes. "You know what I mean old man. It's the thought that counts."
"Okay," Duncan said, "not to break up this touching moment, but would someone care to explain now just what the hell happened here, from the beginning please?"
Amanda sighed. "I told you. It was lights, camera, and action. She went in after him the way that she did the last time."
Methos looked up from where he was hunkered down by Cass and then turned back to look at her. "You went into the undermind again? I thought that your days of meddling were over?"
Cassandra hung her head. "I'd just woken up. I wasn't thinking at my best. Besides, this was an emergency. I couldn't know for sure *what* was happening inside his mind. The only way to be *sure* was to go and look for myself. After all, glowing blue in your sleep is hardly normal. Even for one of *us*. So I went," she finished firmly.
"It was *her* wasn't it?" Amanda growled. "His 'harmless' girlfriend?"
Cass nodded silently.
"Damn it," Amanda snarled. "I *knew* that she was dangerous!"
Richie made a rude noise from where he was kneeling next to Alex, earning him a glare from Amanda. He ignored it and went on tending to his friend. He'd finished wiping Alex down, and covered him with a blanket against the night chill.
Methos shook his head. "Calm down Old Woman, any wild animal is dangerous if you provoke it enough."
"I can agree with that," Richie chimed in.
"We...I....I mean she..." Amanda sputtered. "She could have killed Cass!"
Cassandra cleared her throat. "Yes, she could have, but she didn't. Besides, I don't think that this is matter of 'she' anymore." She nodded at a sleeping Alex. "This is a matter of 'them'."
Amanda sputtered again. "Alex would *never* hurt one of us."
Cassandra had recovered enough to chuckle. "We can agree on that." She sighed. "The only way to tell this is to do it in order."
"Thank you," said Duncan wryly.
Cassandra took a breath. "Once I was in the undermind, finding Alex was easy. The last time I had to fish around for him. This time it was like seeing a beacon in the night. But once I got there, I found something else entirely."
"She was there, wasn't she?" Amanda demanded, wanting to hear the words.
"She was there," Cass said. Then she quelled Amanda's triumphant look with a look of her own. A puzzled awestruck look. "But it wasn't just her, or him.....it was IT."
"It?" said Richie.
"Yes It," Cassandra responded. "The last time I was in Alex's dreams and I saw the two of them together, I thought that together they were the most beautiful sight that I'd ever seen. In the spirit realm they're connected in a way that I've seldom seen....and never seen to this depth. They're soul mates all right. But I was right as well when I said that they were like two halves of one creature. Tonight those two halves found each other and joined together. Not only was the whole greater than the sum of it's parts, it was the most incomprehensibly beautiful thing that I've ever seen. Seeing It was like seeing what I imagine an angel to be."
"So what happened?" Richie asked. "You obviously didn't leave on good terms."
Cassandra flushed painfully. "I tried a glamour on them. I tried to "Still" them to give us time to sort this out. It didn't take kindly to the intrusion." She took a deep breath. "In fact, it spoke to me. It said...."
Richie snorted. "Don't tell me, let me guess. It said, 'Not This Time'. Right?"
Cassandra frowned. "How did you know?"
Amanda broke in to say, "Because just before you sat up screaming here, Alex said those very words in a voice that made me think of demon possession and exorcisms."
"It wasn't *that* bad," Richie retorted. "It actually sounded kind of nice, in a very high toned sort of way.
"*It* wasn't Alex's voice," Amanda shot back, still obviously looking for a confrontation to work out her issues.
Methos broke in, turned to Cassandra, and said, "Bugger that, what happened in there? Why did you scream that you were falling?"
Cass laughed weakly. "Because I was. In the dreamscape they were having their tryst up on the roof of this building. When I tried to meddle It blew me completely off the roof, but then I think that it caught me while I was still airborne and slammed me back into my body. Regardless, it had power to burn. It could have killed me with less effort than it used to throw me out of Alex's head."
Duncan cleared his throat. "All right, we have the bare bones of it. Alex came close to telling me the whole story earlier tonight, but he backed off at the last minute. That's no longer an option. Come tomorrow morning he has some serious explaining to do. Whatever is going on with him, we need to be able to factor it into our current situation. I'm not looking for help, I simply don't want any hindrances." He paused. "Let's all get back to bed now and let tempers cool off. Since Alex has slept through this entire mess without breaking stride I'd say that he'll be out of action for a long time to come. Whatever needs to be said can wait for the morning."
Amanda growled again, glaring at Richie, then at Duncan, before she threw her hands up and stalked out the door and down the hall, muttering to herself.
Richie heaved a sigh of relief. "For a minute there I thought that she was coming after my head."
Duncan sighed gustily. "She'll be all right. Just give her time to cool off."
"How about I take the watch now, and give you time to deal with the tigress?" Methos said.
A wincing Duncan said, "Actually I thought that leaving her alone might be the wisest course of action tonight, but I suppose that you're right. She's my problem. I'll deal with her."
Methos grinned. "Better you than me." He turned to go. "I'll see you all in the morning."
"Just a minute," Cassandra said. "I couldn't sleep again for a while anyway, so I'll join you."
Methos eyebrows rose, but he said, "All right, I'll be glad of the company."
Neither noticed the smirks that passed between Richie and Duncan.
"Well, if that's it," Richie said, " then all of you get out of here so that I can rejoin Alex in dreamland."
Duncan stretched and yawned. "Goodnight then." Then he was gone, shambling downstairs to try and cool Amanda off before sleep claimed him.
Methos and Cassandra left wordlessly and ascended to the catwalk. They'd both settled down, looking in opposite directions when Cassandra finally spoke.
"Old Man, there's something that I didn't mention earlier because I thought that Amanda already had enough on her plate. There are consequences of what happened tonight that I don't think she's considered, and she still hasn't shaken off the foster mother thing that she has for Alex."
Methos was scanning the terrain, but she had his attention. "Yes?"
Cassandra sighed. "I'm not sure, but I think that...just perhaps....Alex got married tonight."
The silence that greeted that statement was profound.
End of Part 18
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.
STILL YOURS - Part 18i
(Irresistible Forces and Immovable Objects)
Happy Travelers Campground....Same Time
Maria DeLuca tossed and turned trying to get comfortable, then her eyes snapped open. "Damn it," she muttered. "I should have gone to the bathroom before bed!" She lay there for a moment, gathering herself, and then she sighed with disgust. To reach the bathroom in the RV she'd have to get past her mother. Her mother who slept like a cat and always woke up like a bear at the end of winter. That was out of the question. This would mean a long nighttime walk, which she wasn't going to make alone. That meant waking Isabel, since taking Liz would leave Isabel unguarded, and that wasn't going to happen. With their sort of luck they'd come back and find her gone, gone, gone. Suddenly she registered something. The girl next to her was breathing like a distance runner in a long sprint.
Maria sat up quickly and stared at Isabel Evans. Isabel had thrown off her blanket. Tonight she'd elected to sleep in an old tee shirt of Alex's that his parents had given her after his funeral. Despite the brief attire, she was sweating profusely, and she was lying unnaturally still. A worried Maria, thinking that her girl friend was having a nightmare, reached out with her hand to shake her awake. Suddenly Isabel moaned a name. A name spoken with deep need, the sort of need that Maria recognized.
"Alex!" Isabel moaned aloud.
Maria gasped softly as she jerked her hand back. She was torn by conflicting emotions. Horror at the violation of witnessing such private moment for her two friends, satisfaction at what she thought was finally happening, and a fiendish sort of delight at an opportunity to tease her friend about it tomorrow. She looked over at Liz. She was asleep. The three friends were all on air mattresses in the main living area, while Amy was safely ensconced in the master sleeping area behind a soundproof door....along with the bathroom. So Maria settled in for the show.
"The bathroom can wait," she muttered.
No sooner were the words out of her mouth though than she was choking on them as she watched the first glowing spot come into being, travel up her friend's arm, and disappear. It had lasted for only a moment. So little time that she was sure that she'd been mistaken..... until other faint blue trails of phosphorescent fire began to trace lazy paths over Isabel's skin. Slowly at first, and then with increasing speed and density. They were getting brighter too.
"Maria what...?" came Liz's sleepy voice.
"Shhhh!" Maria hissed. "If you wake her, she'll *never* forgive you. Hell, *I'll* never forgive you!"
"Huh? What?" Liz was only confused for a moment, and then her eyes registered what she had a front row seat for. "Holy shit!" she hissed as she grinned at Maria. "The others are gonna flip out!"
Maria grinned back, fit to bust. "You got *that* right!" She looked down at her friend who was still breathing heavily. The blue fire flies were moving with purpose now as they merged and split, moving with maniacal speed. They had nearly covered her completely. It wouldn't be long now. Maria reached out to stroke Isabel's hair in support, but not wanting to interrupt the moment, she stopped short. "C'mon," she whispered softly in encouragement. "C'mon girl friend. To quote my better half, 'kick one between the uprights'!"
Bear Run Asylum.....Same Time
Cassandra was being shaken violently awake. While still half asleep she lashed out blindly, seized her would be assailant, and twisted her body so that she could place a chokehold on whoever it was. However her attacker was knowledgeable enough to get a forearm between her throat and the inside of Cassandra's forearm. "Knock it off Tinkerbell," rasped a female voice. "This is an emergency!"
The identity of the speaker finally penetrated her sleep-fogged brain and her eyes snapped open. "Huh? What? Amanda I was...."
"Shut up!" Amanda hissed. "There's no time for you to chew me out. Something has got Alex!"
"What? What are you talking about?" Cass snapped as she scrambled to her feet. Ice water was churning in her guts. "Why didn't you get Duncan?" she hissed.
Amanda began tugging at Cass's arm urgently, dragging her out into the main room, up the stairs, and down the hall, towards Alex and Richie's room. "I was restless, so I was going up to check on Duncan when I passed Alex and Richie's room. At first I thought that they'd left their lantern on. Then I looked inside." Amanda swallowed. "This *isn't* something that Duncan can handle."
They were almost there, and Cass could see an unearthly blue light that flickered and danced that shown out of the doorway to do a flickering dance on the hallway floor. As Amanda dragged her through the door Cassandra gasped at what she saw. Alex was almost entirely surrounded in a nimbus of blue light that shivered and danced across his flesh like a living thing.
"It wasn't their lantern," Amanda hissed. "I can't wake him. When I try I get knocked on my ass by something like a little Quickening. And I haven't bothered the others," she said as she indicated an oblivious and soundly sleeping Richie, "because they'd be useless." Amanda spoke now with rough urgency. "This is your territory Glinda. Get in there and *do* something."
Still not thinking clearly, and driven by Amanda's wild fear Cassandra slumped back against the wall of the room, seizing Amanda's hand as she slid down into sitting posture. "All right, it'll take a minute."
"We don't *have* a minute!" Amanda said aloud. Richie groaned and began to set up, finally disturbed enough to wake up. "See?" she said. "Get in there!"
Cassandra hesitated only long enough to glance at where Alex lay. He was completely sheathed in blue light now. Her decision made, she turned inward abruptly, diving into the undermind at full emergency speed, without even bothering with the preliminary mantra first. Her last shred of consciousness registered Richie's voice speaking in panic.
"What the hell is going on here?!"
***THE DREAM STATE***
It was happening again. Alex and Isabel were lost in that warm golden haze again as they enfolded each other in desperate hunger that was beyond lust and love, yet which could not exist without both. In their own world, high atop the catwalk, the blanket fell away to reveal them in all their glory. They were surrounded in sparkling blue fire that shown like a beacon. And that was only the beginning. It was time for the grand finale. The two lovers held each other ever tighter, seeking to make themselves one person. Not knowing, in their passion, that they were about to get their wish. The barrier that separated their souls softened, weakened, and then collapsed....
***FUSION***
It was awake at last, and under unique circumstances. Instead of merging first through the conscious mind, its constituents had merged through the unconscious mind. This gave it a certain freedom of action that its fellow composites had lacked. Dreams were a place of magic and wonder. In the space of only moments landscapes appeared and disappeared; shapes flashed into being that were unimaginable, colors glowed that were indescribable, music that danced the entire aural spectrum and beyond came and went. It was beauty of such poignancy that an ordinary mortal would have barely been able to look at it without bursting into tears. It was an artist.
And like all great artists, it had an audience.
Its attention was broken as a voice spoke. ""Still"" it said.
The composite recognized tones of power, but shrugged them off as inconsequential. Like a duck shedding water from its back.
""STILL, I SAID"" the voice spoke again, trying to assert authority.
"Authority?" It thought in a quandary. "Over me? Over us? The only beings with authority over us are our constituents." The voice was recognized. The Composite felt conflict. Part of it was threatened by the voice, and part of it was warmed.....yet both parts were irritated by the intrusion.
The voice cursed in a dead and forgotten language and said, ""I SAID STILL!""
Regarding the owner of the irritating voice through two pairs of eyes the composite felt a tingle as the other sought to enforce her will. Irritation finally won out. And the composite spoke.
"Not This Time," it intoned with two sets of vocal chords. "Not This Time." And with a casual gesture of the isabel's hand It delivered a wave of ephemeral energy that blew the intruder completely off of the roof. She was still in the air when the composite's better nature enforced its will and It forced her out of the dream plane before she could hit the ground.
The composite felt its energy begin to wane. Its job was done for the here and now. Its constituents were inexperienced and as yet unsealed to each other. Their bodies needed rest. It went back to sleep content though. It didn't know why, it simply knew that this was what was supposed to be.
***FISSION***
Happy Travelers Campground......Now
A sappily grinning Maria high-fived her girl friend across the sleeping body of their friend. "I'd say *that* went well."
Liz snorted, but looked just as pleased as Maria. "We don't know that. We didn't even know that fusion could happen in dreams."
Maria laughed. "We didn't know that it could happen during *sex* either." Michael and I had to trip over that little fact ourselves. Hell, we don't know a *lot* of things." She looked down at Isabel and pursed her lips. "Oh God Liz, she's sweating like she has a fever. We have to do something, or she's going to feel gross in the morning." Maria scrambled to her feet, retrieved two towels from the kitchen area. Returning she tossed one to Liz as she began to cautiously and tenderly blot the exposed skin of her heavily perspiring, newly fused, girl friend.
Liz showed no such caution as she tackled Isabel's legs vigorously.
"Now so hard Liz," Maria remonstrated. "You'll wake her up, and I'm pretty sure that she won't like that."
"Nonsense," Liz shot back. "Just look at her. She was under a long time. Time plays tricks on you in there, so I can't be sure, but she was under longer than we were the first time. And I know for a fact that she and Alex haven't...er..."
"Done the mattress mambo?" Maria challenged.
Liz sighed. "Yes. If they had we'd have been able to read it on them a mile away. They haven't...sealed the deal...so they can't bounce back the way that we can now. They started into this dead tired and asleep, so I'll bet that she and Alex are both going to stay zonked until tomorrow morning."
Maria was copying Liz's vigorous movements now, lifting the lower hem of Isabel's tee shirt so that she could reach the skin beneath it with her towel. "Well, that sucks," she muttered. "I'm going to die of curiosity between now and then."
Liz nodded. "Me too."
Maria looked down at their recumbent friend and stroked her hair gently. "Girl friend," she queried softly, "just what was with the dialog in the possessed voice? 'Not this time'? Not *what* this time?" Isabel stirred briefly and shivered causing Maria to make a concerned noise. She ran a hand down her friend's arm and gasped. She looked up at Liz and said, "C'mon, lets get her blanket on her, she's freezing!"
They pulled Isabel's blanket up and tucked it in around her, then they stayed with her a while until they were sure that she would be warm enough. Liz was trying to get comfortable again when Maria stood up abruptly. "Don't get relaxed girl. I need a bathroom, and I'm not waking my mother up so that I can use the one in here. You *know* what that means."
Liz groaned. "Now?"
Maria nodded. "Now. I was getting ready to wake Isabel for the trip when the light show started. Nature was calling then. Now she's screaming. Let's go." When Liz glanced nervously at Isabel, Maria chuckled. "Don't worry about her. You were right. She's wiped out for the duration."
"Okay, let’s go and get back," Liz sighed as she let Maria pull her to her feet. Quickly and quietly they pulled on shoes and jackets before heading out the door. As they did so Isabel turned in her sleep, causing them to freeze.
"Isabel?" Maria queried softly.
Her answer was a delicate feminine snore.
Liz stifled a laugh and motioned frantically for Maria to get outside. Once they were out the door they dashed towards the rest room facilities. Only when they got there did they give birth to the laughter that they'd been holding in.
"Oh that's too precious," Liz said. "My future sister-in-law, Princess of an alien planet, snores. I think that I love her more now than I ever have before."
Maria snickered. "It'll make for some great teasing, and great blackmail information."
After the girls had separated to take care of their reason for being there Liz said, "I wonder if Alex knows?"
Maria was sighing with relief when the words reached her. "How could he?" Then she paused as her thoughts focused on Alex for the first time that evening. "I wonder what happened at his end?"
Bear Run Asylum......Moments Earlier
Cassandra's eyes snapped open abruptly as she shrieked, "FALLING. I'M FALLING!"
*That* got everyone's attention nicely, except for a certain young man who would be out like a light until late the next morning. There was a loud thud and a Celtic curse out in the hall as Duncan hit the floor in the alcove after coming down the ladder at full emergency speed. The sound of running feet and another thud...a series of them actually... and some very creative cursing in several languages accompanied the collision of a shoeless, boxer clad Methos with Duncan as he emerged from the alcove. Methos had been moving at a dead run, so they both hit the floor hard.
"Watch wher' you're goin' old man," Duncan snarled, his Highland brogue coming through thickly under stress.. "Thoose were th' family jewels you tagged with th't knee."
"Stuff it junior. They're your jewels. If you want them safe, keep them out of my way. That was Cassandra!" Methos shot back.
Scrambling sounds, muffled grunts, and more cursing came from both men as they disentangled themselves from each other. Again there was the sound of running feet, followed by more cursing as they both tried to lunge through the door of Alex and Richie's room with drawn swords. Once they got inside they saw Amanda crouched over Cassandra, trying to get her to drink from a flask. Richie was squatting next to Alex, blotting his
forehead with a rag.
"What the hell is going on here?" barked Duncan.
Amanda glared at him. "We'll tell you in a minute junior, just keep your pants on." Then she glared at Methos. "And you, go *put* some pants on!"
Methos usually so calm, had been staring wildly at Cassandra. "Huh? What?" he said when his attention swung to Amanda. "She screamed," he grated harshly as he started forward. "If you think for one second that I'm going *anywhere* until I know...." Duncan's hand on his arm stopped him.
Calmer now that he knew that no one was dead he said, "Go on old man, she'll be safe until you get back. My word on it." Duncan could tell that Amanda was on edge and spoiling for a fight.
After taking a deep and audible breath to quell his panic, Methos gave him a wordless look that let him know that his honor was now on the line. Then he silently vanished out the door in search of some clothes.
Duncan looked at Richie who was wearing that look that Duncan had come to recognize after so many centuries. The look of a man who's just been blindsided by the unknown.
"What happened here?"
Richie sighed. "Damned if I know Mac. I woke up to find them arguing," he said, indicating the women. Then he pointed at Alex, "And our friend here was glowing like a neon sign. Blue."
Duncan blinked. "Glowing? Like a Quickening?"
"It wasn't a Quickening," Amanda snapped. "It wasn't anything that I've ever seen, or even *like* anything that I've ever seen. It was hard blue light. It started out like little glowing trails all over him. By the time I got Cass back here it was almost completely solid. I couldn't wake him up to save my life. Every time I tried I got a hell of a jolt. Like my hand was being smacked away from him."
Duncan took a deep breath and counted to ten. "And you didn't notify the rest of us.... why?"
Amanda glared. "This wasn't your territory Duncan. There was nothing that you could have done, and there wasn't time to hold a quorum. Whatever was happening to him was happening so damn fast that I had to prioritize who to get to deal with it. That meant Cass. She was the only one that might have a chance of getting inside to deal with it." She fell silent, but inside her mind a litany went on. "It's my fault. Bad call. My fault."
MacLeod glanced over at their glassy eyed friend. "I'd say that she did that. The question is did she do any good? From the looks of her I'd say that she was the one that got dealt with."
Amanda's temper started to red line. "Do you think that I don't know that?" she hissed, but her budding fury was stymied by a timely interruption.
"Did Cass do any good at what?" came Methos’ query from the doorway. His shirt wasn't buttoned, his belt was hanging open, he had a towel thrown over his shoulder, and he was struggling to get his other shoe on...but he was dressed enough.
Duncan raised an eyebrow. "That's what I'm trying to find out." Then he brought Methos up to speed.
Methos absorbed the information as he went over to where Cassandra was slumped against the wall. Her pallor alarmed him, but not too much. Taking in her glassy eyes he felt her skin, which was clammy, and he took her pulse which was running very fast. “Shock,” he thought. He pointed at the flask in Amanda's hand and snapped his fingers wordlessly. She glared but handed it over.
"It's from your stock. I was going to share it with Duncan when I got sidetracked into this. I tried to get her to drink some, but she wouldn't."
Methos snorted. "You didn't try hard enough." So saying he ruthlessly pried open Cassandra's mouth to pour in a hefty dollop of liquor, and then he pinched her nose to make her swallow. Booze wasn't the best thing for shock, but it was better than nothing. She coughed, choked, and began to wheeze as Methos patted her on the back. The color was coming back to her face...and to her language as well.
Cassandra gasped out something pungent sounding, in a language long dead.
Methos eyebrows rose and he chuckled. "Now I'm pretty sure that my mother knew my father, even if I wasn’t their blood born son. And as for the goat, forget it. My family raised sheep."
Cassandra half laughed as she wiped streaming eyes. "You know what I mean old man. It's the thought that counts."
"Okay," Duncan said, "not to break up this touching moment, but would someone care to explain now just what the hell happened here, from the beginning please?"
Amanda sighed. "I told you. It was lights, camera, and action. She went in after him the way that she did the last time."
Methos looked up from where he was hunkered down by Cass and then turned back to look at her. "You went into the undermind again? I thought that your days of meddling were over?"
Cassandra hung her head. "I'd just woken up. I wasn't thinking at my best. Besides, this was an emergency. I couldn't know for sure *what* was happening inside his mind. The only way to be *sure* was to go and look for myself. After all, glowing blue in your sleep is hardly normal. Even for one of *us*. So I went," she finished firmly.
"It was *her* wasn't it?" Amanda growled. "His 'harmless' girlfriend?"
Cass nodded silently.
"Damn it," Amanda snarled. "I *knew* that she was dangerous!"
Richie made a rude noise from where he was kneeling next to Alex, earning him a glare from Amanda. He ignored it and went on tending to his friend. He'd finished wiping Alex down, and covered him with a blanket against the night chill.
Methos shook his head. "Calm down Old Woman, any wild animal is dangerous if you provoke it enough."
"I can agree with that," Richie chimed in.
"We...I....I mean she..." Amanda sputtered. "She could have killed Cass!"
Cassandra cleared her throat. "Yes, she could have, but she didn't. Besides, I don't think that this is matter of 'she' anymore." She nodded at a sleeping Alex. "This is a matter of 'them'."
Amanda sputtered again. "Alex would *never* hurt one of us."
Cassandra had recovered enough to chuckle. "We can agree on that." She sighed. "The only way to tell this is to do it in order."
"Thank you," said Duncan wryly.
Cassandra took a breath. "Once I was in the undermind, finding Alex was easy. The last time I had to fish around for him. This time it was like seeing a beacon in the night. But once I got there, I found something else entirely."
"She was there, wasn't she?" Amanda demanded, wanting to hear the words.
"She was there," Cass said. Then she quelled Amanda's triumphant look with a look of her own. A puzzled awestruck look. "But it wasn't just her, or him.....it was IT."
"It?" said Richie.
"Yes It," Cassandra responded. "The last time I was in Alex's dreams and I saw the two of them together, I thought that together they were the most beautiful sight that I'd ever seen. In the spirit realm they're connected in a way that I've seldom seen....and never seen to this depth. They're soul mates all right. But I was right as well when I said that they were like two halves of one creature. Tonight those two halves found each other and joined together. Not only was the whole greater than the sum of it's parts, it was the most incomprehensibly beautiful thing that I've ever seen. Seeing It was like seeing what I imagine an angel to be."
"So what happened?" Richie asked. "You obviously didn't leave on good terms."
Cassandra flushed painfully. "I tried a glamour on them. I tried to "Still" them to give us time to sort this out. It didn't take kindly to the intrusion." She took a deep breath. "In fact, it spoke to me. It said...."
Richie snorted. "Don't tell me, let me guess. It said, 'Not This Time'. Right?"
Cassandra frowned. "How did you know?"
Amanda broke in to say, "Because just before you sat up screaming here, Alex said those very words in a voice that made me think of demon possession and exorcisms."
"It wasn't *that* bad," Richie retorted. "It actually sounded kind of nice, in a very high toned sort of way.
"*It* wasn't Alex's voice," Amanda shot back, still obviously looking for a confrontation to work out her issues.
Methos broke in, turned to Cassandra, and said, "Bugger that, what happened in there? Why did you scream that you were falling?"
Cass laughed weakly. "Because I was. In the dreamscape they were having their tryst up on the roof of this building. When I tried to meddle It blew me completely off the roof, but then I think that it caught me while I was still airborne and slammed me back into my body. Regardless, it had power to burn. It could have killed me with less effort than it used to throw me out of Alex's head."
Duncan cleared his throat. "All right, we have the bare bones of it. Alex came close to telling me the whole story earlier tonight, but he backed off at the last minute. That's no longer an option. Come tomorrow morning he has some serious explaining to do. Whatever is going on with him, we need to be able to factor it into our current situation. I'm not looking for help, I simply don't want any hindrances." He paused. "Let's all get back to bed now and let tempers cool off. Since Alex has slept through this entire mess without breaking stride I'd say that he'll be out of action for a long time to come. Whatever needs to be said can wait for the morning."
Amanda growled again, glaring at Richie, then at Duncan, before she threw her hands up and stalked out the door and down the hall, muttering to herself.
Richie heaved a sigh of relief. "For a minute there I thought that she was coming after my head."
Duncan sighed gustily. "She'll be all right. Just give her time to cool off."
"How about I take the watch now, and give you time to deal with the tigress?" Methos said.
A wincing Duncan said, "Actually I thought that leaving her alone might be the wisest course of action tonight, but I suppose that you're right. She's my problem. I'll deal with her."
Methos grinned. "Better you than me." He turned to go. "I'll see you all in the morning."
"Just a minute," Cassandra said. "I couldn't sleep again for a while anyway, so I'll join you."
Methos eyebrows rose, but he said, "All right, I'll be glad of the company."
Neither noticed the smirks that passed between Richie and Duncan.
"Well, if that's it," Richie said, " then all of you get out of here so that I can rejoin Alex in dreamland."
Duncan stretched and yawned. "Goodnight then." Then he was gone, shambling downstairs to try and cool Amanda off before sleep claimed him.
Methos and Cassandra left wordlessly and ascended to the catwalk. They'd both settled down, looking in opposite directions when Cassandra finally spoke.
"Old Man, there's something that I didn't mention earlier because I thought that Amanda already had enough on her plate. There are consequences of what happened tonight that I don't think she's considered, and she still hasn't shaken off the foster mother thing that she has for Alex."
Methos was scanning the terrain, but she had his attention. "Yes?"
Cassandra sighed. "I'm not sure, but I think that...just perhaps....Alex got married tonight."
The silence that greeted that statement was profound.
End of Part 18
Last edited by Kzinti_Killer on Sat Feb 25, 2006 8:44 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Dragons, Ogres, & Pretty Boy Lawyers Slain, Reasonable Rates, Call After 5:00 At 1-900-OhMyGodWhatWereTheyThinkingOf
"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
-- Henry Jenkins
"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
-- Henry Jenkins
-
Kzinti_Killer
- Administrator
- Posts: 1019
- Joined: Fri Feb 22, 2002 6:44 am
- Location: High Reaches Weyr, Northern Pern
Title: Still Yours
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.
STILL YOURS - Part 19a
(The Evidence of Things Not Seen)
Happy Travelers Campground.......8:30 AM Friday
Brody Davis groaned as he felt himself returning to the land of the living. He really hadn't wanted to wake up. He'd been having a fascinating dream in which he'd met Larek, who was trying urgently to tell him something. On the face of it, it was ridiculous, because he knew that Larek was an alien....and yet his dream Larek had looked, for want of a better description, more 'human' than not. He had *almost* understood what the alien nobleman was trying to tell him when the fiendishly delightful odors of coffee and bacon had ripped him from the comforting bosom of sleep. He opened his eyes and suffered through a minor internal conflict. Part of him wanted to strangle the person who had contrived to drag him from sleep with those enticing odors. He inhaled deeply and his mouth watered. The other stronger part of him was just hungry, and it just wanted to eat and guzzle coffee. With a grunt he dragged himself upright and unzipped his sleeping bag. Scrambling into pants and a shirt, Brody grabbed his shoes and stared at them a moment before muttering, "Bugger it, this is a vacation, of sorts....and it seems like forever since I've gone barefoot." Tossing the shoes aside he crawled out to find Jim Valenti hunkered down next to the fireplace tending a skillet.
Hearing motion behind him Jim turned slightly to take in the sight of a yawning and scratching Brody emerging from his tent. Shuddering in mock horror Jim said, "Ah, the first customer of the day! Have some coffee, even if you do look less human than the aliens of my acquaintance."
From the direction of Max and Michael's tent came a groan and Michael's voice spoke out. "I heard that!"
Valenti chuckled. "If you're awake Michael, get your butt dressed and get out here. I hear movement in the motor home. We're going to be swamped in hungry people out here in a couple of minutes, and I and my lone skillet just aren't going to get the job done."
A muffled surly grunt from the direction of Max and Michael's tent was the only answer, but rustling sounds punctuated by an occasional groan indicated that Michael was moving. A moment later they received verification has Max howled, "Ooffff! Damn it Michael, that's *me* you've got your knee on! Get off!"
There was an abrupt scrambling noise as a laughing Michael Guerin lunged out of the tent to land on his hands and knees, then stopped, and rolled over so that he could see Max's glaring face looking out at him from between the tent flaps. "The *next* time Max, don't fall asleep between me and the tent door. You're lucky that I didn't have to hit the bathroom during the night!" He was still grinning as he scrambled to his feet and staggered over to one of the benches around the fireplace. He started pulling on shoes and socks as he said to Jim, "Give me a couple of minutes to hit the john and I'll be ready to rock."
Just then the door to the motor home swung open and Amy emerged. When she was hailed with several good mornings she tried to smile, but finally shook her head and walked over to where the coffee pot was steaming next to the fire, snagged a mug off of a small portable table next to the fire pit, and filled it to the brim. She sat down and cradled the mug between her two hands, as if it were the most precious thing in the world. Taking a sip she smacked her lips audibly, causing Brody to wince, and Jim and Michael to grin. Looking up she said, "Jim, did you make this?"
Valenti nodded.
Amy took another long sip. "This is without doubt the worst coffee in the world......and just what I needed this morning." She sipped again, appreciatively; and finally sent Jim a sincere, if somewhat wan, smile. "Thank you."
Jim chuckled. "You're welcome, I think." He glanced at the motor home. "Are the girls coming?"
Amy nodded. "They were getting dressed, but my mothering instincts detect trouble."
Max was just emerging from his tent. He groaned aloud as he stretched, causing vertebrae to pop. "Is it Isabel?"
Amy glared at both he and Michael. "You tell *me* sport. All I know is that Liz and Maria are giggly and bouncy as hell this morning. I heard them leave the RV last night so I got up and watched the two of them head for the rest rooms, and you'd better believe that I watched until they came back and were safely inside." She sipped her coffee again and her frown deepened, as if fueled by the caffeine. "I'm pretty sure that they were inside the rest of the night, but that proves nothing. Michael actually slept in my house once without my knowing about it until the next morning. All I know is that they've both got this, 'We've got a secret' happy mood going, like you kids always do when you think that you've pulled a fast one on the old folks. They've both been up to something during the night," she said, and then she pointed at Max and Michael. "If that 'something' was you two, then you're both dead meat."
Michael snorted as he pulled on a shoe and stamped his foot into it. "Then I'm in the clear. The only warm body close to me all night was Max, and he's definitely not my idea of an erotic fantasy!" He stood up abruptly. "I'm headed for the can." He glanced at Max. "Coming Maxwell?" Then he stalked off towards the rest rooms.
Max grunted as he hastily pulled on his shoes then jumped to his feet and fled the campsite with Amy's determined glare trailing after him. It was too early in the morning for him to deal with the likes of Amy DeLuca on a rampage.
Amy's morning grumpiness showed every sign off expanding into something considerably more lethal and scorching, fanned and fed by Michael's carefree use of the phrase "erotic fantasy" in reference to her one and only daughter. Her *teenage* daughter. She knew that they'd been sleeping together until now, but damn it she didn't want to be reminded of it! Or have other people see that she knew about it. Or see other people seeing that she knew about it....
"Amy?"
"What!?" she exploded.
Jim Valenti recoiled defensively, and then took a deep breath. He loved this woman. If this was Amy in the morning, he'd better learn to live with it. "You mentioned Liz and Maria, but not Isabel. How is she this morning?"
Amy's mind hiccupped and abruptly switched tracks, from fury to worry. "I don't think that she's angry anymore if that's what you're asking. But I'd say that she's definitely upset." Amy sipped her coffee again, the rolled the mug thoughtfully between her hands. "She was slow to get up this morning, and she had this blank look a lot. I'd catch her staring out a window, staring at a wall, or the ceiling; or staring at nothing at all....lost in thought. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that brooding ran in the alien genes. It's for damn sure that *something* is bothering her. Whether or not it's the same something as yesterday, I don't know." Amy sighed. "Sometimes kids are easy to read, like Liz and Maria. Sometimes they're hard, like Isabel. On the whole I'd prefer easy."
It never occurred to any of the adults that the state of mind of all three girls was be connected by a common thread.
"I have an idea," said a voice from behind them.
They turned around to find a fully dressed Kyle standing outside of the door of his tent, and he looked like death warmed over.
"What was that?" Amy asked. She was frowning again, because Kyle looked so pale and drawn.
Kyle walked over to her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Amy, I know that you have this mother thing going for all of us. And we appreciate it. *I* appreciate it. But you've got to understand that our lives aren't normal anymore. They'll never be anything close to normal again. So we'll never have normal issues," he heaved a long-suffering sigh and finished, "never again.
"Kyle?" his father queried, puzzled at his son's behavior, and his unexpected forthrightness; and more than a little worried about his appearance.
"Morning dad," he said firmly, and then he turned back to Amy. "So, instead of trying to guess, just ask. If they want to answer, they will. If they don't, don't crowd them like you would normal kids. Because there are times when you just wouldn't understand, and couldn't help even if you did." He dropped his hand from her shoulder and started to back away. "Because they're not normal. We're not normal." He gave a hollow brittle sounding laugh. "Boy are we ever *not* normal." He glanced around the campsite, as if surprised by where he was. "I've got to hit the john." Then he spun on his heel and started to leave, only to be halted by the sound of his father's voice.
"Son? What's the matter? What's wrong??
Kyle halted for a moment and said, without turning, "Dad, do you remember what I said about there being times when you shouldn't crowd?"
"Yes son?"
Kyle sighed. "This would be one of those times." Then he started walking again. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes," he shouted back to them.
There were now three very puzzled adults in camp who were staring at each other, as if uncertain of what to say, and who should say it first.
It's doubtful that they would have been comforted to know that two very discomfited young men had just nodded to Kyle on their way back to the campsite after a very puzzling and uninformative telepathic exchange with their respective soul mates.
Sometime Earlier....in the Motor Home
Liz had awakened this morning on top of the world. Yes, she'd lost some sleep the night before, but it had been in a good cause. And, surprisingly, she'd been able to drop right off to sleep again at once. Comparing notes with Maria, while Amy was getting dressed, she discovered that her friend had also had a blissful night.
"No kidding, Chica," Maria said quietly as they stood together in front of the refrigerator, checking out the breakfast possibilities. "When we got back from the little girls room, I thought that I couldn't possibly fall asleep right away. I figured that I'd be up for hours, waiting for Isabel to so much as crack an eye lid, so that I could pummel her with questions." Maria sighed. "At least that's what I *thought* anyway. The last thing that I remember was feeling a *little* tired when I stretched out next to her.....then it was morning, I was awake, and I was ready to ask questions." Maria leaned back briefly and peeked around the refrigerator door at Isabel, who was currently still laying on her air mattress, staring morosely into space. She might as well have had a 'Do Not Disturb' sign hung around her neck. "Of course that doesn't mean that our new sister in fusion is ready to provide any of the answers." Isabel's morose state did nothing to dampen Maria's spirits though. Isabel would talk before they left the motor home, or else!
Suddenly the door to the bedroom was jerked open and Amy came charging out, fully dressed at last, only to stop short. She'd only been outside the bedroom for a few minutes earlier. Just long enough to wake the girls up and try to get them moving. "Okay, what's with the cheery smiles? Maria, you're my daughter. It's genetically impossible for you to be cheerful in the morning. DeLuca women are *not* morning people!"
The girls' smiles broadened at Amy's antics, which only seemed to irritate her all the more. Then a dreadful suspicion blossomed in her mind.
"There's only one reason for a woman to wear a smile like that in the morning and...." as her daughter opened her mouth to speak, Amy slapped her hands over her ears...."I don't want to hear about it until after my second, or possibly my *third* cup of coffee!" Amy dropped her hands as her grinning daughter made a show of closing her mouth firmly, and then she looked in the refrigerator herself. "Forget milk and cereal, girls. The boys are cooking breakfast this morning, so shake a leg and get dressed." She glanced over at the air mattresses and frowned. Isabel was still at it, playing statue. "You too young lady," she said, addressing the silent and somber girl. Then Amy hustled towards the door, eager to get outside. "Remember what I said. The third cup of coffee, not before!" The door opened and closed.
The room's air pressure seemed to drop without Amy DeLuca in it. Maria rolled her eyes, and Liz chuckled. Then their eyes went back to the silent statue on the air mattresses. They glanced at each other and came to an instant understanding. It was time to start prying.
Typically, Liz took point. "Isabel?" That provoked no reaction at all. "Isabel? Can you hear me?" Liz looked at Maria as if to say, 'What now?'"
Maria's answer was the direct approach. She walked over and sank down onto her air mattress, next to her silent friend. Reaching out she laid a hand on Isabel's shoulder as she spoke. "Talk to us girl friend? What's wrong?"
As Maria's hand made contact with Isabel's shoulder it broke whatever self-induced trance the girl was under. She uttered a small shriek and started violently, returning abruptly from whatever interior reality she'd been visiting. "Maria? What do you want?!" It came out more snappish sounding than she'd intended, so she moderated her tone a little, cleared her throat, and tried again. "What's the matter?"
Maria sat back looking bemused and glanced at Liz, who shrugged. "What's the matter? Hmmm, maybe nothing…then again, maybe everything. You're the only one that can answer that?"
Taking in the exchange between Liz and Maria, Isabel was wearing a guarded look now. "What are you talking about?"
Liz sighed and sat down on the other side of her, tailor fashion. "Iz, Maria and I slept on either side of you last night. It would have been kind of hard to miss what happened."
Isabel flushed deeply, unsure of what to say.
Maria opened her mouth to speak, then her eyes grew into round astonishment and she began to giggle as her soul mate's urgent demand thundered in over their connection. Michael wanted to know what the hell was going on. "~Maria, if your mother is going to toss threats around first thing in the morning, I'd at least like to know *why* I'm being threatened.~" A quick glance at Liz showed that she was fielding a similar demand from Max.
Liz was beyond exasperated. "~Max, we're still sorting things out in here,~" Liz remonstrated. "~Until we do, I can't tell you a thing. I'm giving you the same line that I gave Alex back when you guys wanted to keep him out. It's not my secret to tell!~"
"~A-ha! So there is a secret!~" Max shot back as he pounced on her tacit admission.
"~Maxwell Evans, in another minute you're going to make me angry. You wouldn't *like* me when I'm angry,~" she said, shooting him droll image of Liz the She-Hulk tossing her soul mate against a wall through their connection. "~All that you and Michael had to deal with was Amy DeLuca before morning coffee. Toughen up. We'll be out when we're out.~" She was about to slam the connection shut when she paused and opened it just a crack again. "~By the way....good morning, and I love you.~" She fired a warm mental kiss to him, then closed the connection.
A sudden jerk of Maria's head indicated that she'd just broken off communications with her better half as well. She was silent for a moment then she snickered. "My mom, the terror."
Liz chuckled as well. She was about to add something of her own when Isabel broke into the exchange.
"Excuse me, but what was that? You two break into *my* train of thought to start a conversation, then you both go all silent and telepathic," Isabel snapped out. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just ignore you both and go back to what I was doing before?" Then she froze, realizing what she'd said, and what it meant. "Okay, I missed something along the way. Maria, when exactly did *you* and Michael....er..."
"Merge?" Maria added, trying to be helpful. "Become the parents of a bouncing baby It?"
Isabel snorted. "Let's just say yes and leave it at that. Does your mother know?"
Maria laughed. "It was Wednesday." She paused as her brow wrinkled. "God! Was it only two days ago? Anyway, trust me when I say that it was a moving experience. And no, my mother doesn't know, and I'd prefer to keep it that way for now. We would have told you girl friend, but so much was going on that we never got around to it."
Isabel's mood shifted somewhat, and she smiled faintly. "I'll bet, but now I have to get used to *you* going off into long telepathic silences too," she half complained.
Maria smiled. "And what were you doing before, hmmm? Could it be that you were having a telepathic conversation of your very own with a good friend of ours?"
Isabel looked startled and answered, "Now why would I...?" Then she broke off abruptly as what Maria had said sank in. Isabel hadn't yet consciously accepted that her complaint about their telepathic silences now applied with equal force to her as well. Now that Maria had rubbed her nose in it she had no choice, but to fully absorb the implications. "Oh...My...God! We'll be able to...I mean I hadn't counted on.... Oh God, he'll know!" Then she collapsed in tears, sobbing bitterly as she stretched out, pillowing her head in her arms.
Liz and Maria were staring at each other, thunderstruck. This was not going how they'd both imagined it would.
Liz reached out to stroke Isabel's shoulder. "Isabel, what is it? Talk to us." Liz slid closer and stretched out her legs. Then she tugged at Isabel's shoulders, urging her to place her head in Liz's lap. After Isabel shifted her position, she seemed to quiet as Liz stroked her hair.
Maria reached out as well and began to gently rub Isabel's back. "Girl friend, we know that you and Alex joined the fusion club last night, so we were...I don't know...expecting something this morning. We just weren't expecting this." Maria sighed deeply. "C'mon, spill it."
Isabel sighed, and pulled free of their gentle hands as she sat up, scrubbed at her face and tossed her hair back. She looked from one to the other of her friends and said, "Try and remember what the guy named Methos looks like."
The two girls looked at each other for a moment and traded a shrug.
"Okay, done," Liz said.
"How old is he?" Isabel queried.
"What?" Maria asked back. "Why would...? Isabel cut her off.
"Humor me."
Liz shrugged. "Mid to late thirties."
"I'd have said early forties myself," Maria answered.
Isabel's eyes were watering again. "You're both wrong," she quavered.
Hoping that Isabel would get to a point soon, Maria took the bait. "So we're wrong. How old is he, fifty?"
Isabel sniffled. "Not even close. Try five thousand."
"WHAT?!" both girls chorused.
Isabel sighed. "I didn't count on that massive exchange of information last night. I know it all now, down to the last detail. They don't age...and they don't die other than by violence, in The Game." She gulped. "Methos is so old that memories of his earliest years are sketchy for him. Five thousand years. Cassandra is over thirty-seven hundred. Amanda is well over a millennium herself. Duncan qualifies as the baby of the oldsters group at over four hundred. Richie is of more recent origins, he only made the jump to full Immortal a few years ago." Isabel shuddered. "They're Immortals."
Liz was dumbstruck. The information had been there, most of it anyway; she'd simply never bothered to reason it out completely, trusting to the fact that they'd learn everything sooner or later. She'd thought that they might be pretty 'long-lived', but immortality and eternal youth had never even crossed her mind. "Damn it, I have got to *stop* doing that," she thought, "I can't keep 'assuming' things like that, or it's going to get one or more of us killed someday. What we don't know can be lethal." She regarded Isabel with a mixture of pity and awe. "Or at least pretty damned heartbreaking."
Isabel sniffed again. "That's why they cut themselves off from everyone. They stop aging at their first death. Alex is going to be a teenager forever. They don't regard it as fair, for either a mortal to watch the person they love remain young while they age, or for an Immortal to watch the person that *they* love grow old and die; taken from them an inch at a time." Isabel was folding in on herself. "God, what are we going to do? Alex, isn't awake yet, thank God. When he *does* wake up he's going to know how I feel!"
"Which obviously isn't very good," thought Maria, and then she spoke aloud. "How do you feel? Are you mad at him?"
"At Alex?" Why would I be mad at him?" Isabel managed to sniffle out.
"Because he lied to you, by omission, and because he withheld ‘need to know’ information?" Liz asked, trying to lead her gently into getting her feelings out.
Isabel shuddered. "But I know *why* he did. God, do I know why. He loves me so much. He was so scared of losing me, or even the hope of me, forever. But at the same time he was so afraid of hurting me simply by being what he is. These last months have been like wound that wouldn't heal for him. I can feel it. I know what it felt like, because I was feeling it too. I think that, if we hadn't found each other again, we would have both gone mad. I could see it in his mind." Isabel paused, looking thoughtful for the first time. "It's like I can think his thoughts if I want to. Run his mind in parallel with mine. He's going to be scared when he realizes what we've done. Scared for me. It's not just the danger that comes as a part of his life now, though that will be a factor. He'll be afraid that the fusion has chained me to a freak who will remain young forever, while I grow old and die." She sighed. "And he'll be able to read *my* fear, of his fear."
"And what are *you* afraid of, Iz?" Liz asked.
"Of growing old, dying, and leaving Alex alone." She paused. "Have you thought about what will happen to us when and if one of us dies? What happens to your soul mate? What if they die too? What if.....?" Maria cut her off abruptly.
"Screw that!"
Isabel blinked in surprise. "W..w..what?" she stuttered.
"I said screw that," Maria said firmly. "Isabel, most people think that I'm a flighty bubble brain, and a lot of the time they're right. But I *do* think occasionally." She nodded at Liz. "And speaking for the brunette over there, with her thinking is an addiction, a vice." Maria sighed. "This is what I regret the most about the way things have gone between the three of us girls from day one. There's *so* much that Liz and I have talked about that *you* should have been a part of, as a friend first, a girl second, and an alien third. Oh the girls nights that we could have had!"
"I don't understand?" Isabel stammered, feeling a pang of regret because…she agreed with Maria.
"Look Sweetie," Maria said, hitting her stride. "All you have is a bigger chunkier version of the same problem that we all have. The uncertainty of life." Maria paused to collect her thoughts. "Liz and I had long midnight talks about this when we realized where our hearts were leading us. Just how long do alien hybrids live? How do they age? How were you *designed* to age?"
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.
STILL YOURS - Part 19a
(The Evidence of Things Not Seen)
Happy Travelers Campground.......8:30 AM Friday
Brody Davis groaned as he felt himself returning to the land of the living. He really hadn't wanted to wake up. He'd been having a fascinating dream in which he'd met Larek, who was trying urgently to tell him something. On the face of it, it was ridiculous, because he knew that Larek was an alien....and yet his dream Larek had looked, for want of a better description, more 'human' than not. He had *almost* understood what the alien nobleman was trying to tell him when the fiendishly delightful odors of coffee and bacon had ripped him from the comforting bosom of sleep. He opened his eyes and suffered through a minor internal conflict. Part of him wanted to strangle the person who had contrived to drag him from sleep with those enticing odors. He inhaled deeply and his mouth watered. The other stronger part of him was just hungry, and it just wanted to eat and guzzle coffee. With a grunt he dragged himself upright and unzipped his sleeping bag. Scrambling into pants and a shirt, Brody grabbed his shoes and stared at them a moment before muttering, "Bugger it, this is a vacation, of sorts....and it seems like forever since I've gone barefoot." Tossing the shoes aside he crawled out to find Jim Valenti hunkered down next to the fireplace tending a skillet.
Hearing motion behind him Jim turned slightly to take in the sight of a yawning and scratching Brody emerging from his tent. Shuddering in mock horror Jim said, "Ah, the first customer of the day! Have some coffee, even if you do look less human than the aliens of my acquaintance."
From the direction of Max and Michael's tent came a groan and Michael's voice spoke out. "I heard that!"
Valenti chuckled. "If you're awake Michael, get your butt dressed and get out here. I hear movement in the motor home. We're going to be swamped in hungry people out here in a couple of minutes, and I and my lone skillet just aren't going to get the job done."
A muffled surly grunt from the direction of Max and Michael's tent was the only answer, but rustling sounds punctuated by an occasional groan indicated that Michael was moving. A moment later they received verification has Max howled, "Ooffff! Damn it Michael, that's *me* you've got your knee on! Get off!"
There was an abrupt scrambling noise as a laughing Michael Guerin lunged out of the tent to land on his hands and knees, then stopped, and rolled over so that he could see Max's glaring face looking out at him from between the tent flaps. "The *next* time Max, don't fall asleep between me and the tent door. You're lucky that I didn't have to hit the bathroom during the night!" He was still grinning as he scrambled to his feet and staggered over to one of the benches around the fireplace. He started pulling on shoes and socks as he said to Jim, "Give me a couple of minutes to hit the john and I'll be ready to rock."
Just then the door to the motor home swung open and Amy emerged. When she was hailed with several good mornings she tried to smile, but finally shook her head and walked over to where the coffee pot was steaming next to the fire, snagged a mug off of a small portable table next to the fire pit, and filled it to the brim. She sat down and cradled the mug between her two hands, as if it were the most precious thing in the world. Taking a sip she smacked her lips audibly, causing Brody to wince, and Jim and Michael to grin. Looking up she said, "Jim, did you make this?"
Valenti nodded.
Amy took another long sip. "This is without doubt the worst coffee in the world......and just what I needed this morning." She sipped again, appreciatively; and finally sent Jim a sincere, if somewhat wan, smile. "Thank you."
Jim chuckled. "You're welcome, I think." He glanced at the motor home. "Are the girls coming?"
Amy nodded. "They were getting dressed, but my mothering instincts detect trouble."
Max was just emerging from his tent. He groaned aloud as he stretched, causing vertebrae to pop. "Is it Isabel?"
Amy glared at both he and Michael. "You tell *me* sport. All I know is that Liz and Maria are giggly and bouncy as hell this morning. I heard them leave the RV last night so I got up and watched the two of them head for the rest rooms, and you'd better believe that I watched until they came back and were safely inside." She sipped her coffee again and her frown deepened, as if fueled by the caffeine. "I'm pretty sure that they were inside the rest of the night, but that proves nothing. Michael actually slept in my house once without my knowing about it until the next morning. All I know is that they've both got this, 'We've got a secret' happy mood going, like you kids always do when you think that you've pulled a fast one on the old folks. They've both been up to something during the night," she said, and then she pointed at Max and Michael. "If that 'something' was you two, then you're both dead meat."
Michael snorted as he pulled on a shoe and stamped his foot into it. "Then I'm in the clear. The only warm body close to me all night was Max, and he's definitely not my idea of an erotic fantasy!" He stood up abruptly. "I'm headed for the can." He glanced at Max. "Coming Maxwell?" Then he stalked off towards the rest rooms.
Max grunted as he hastily pulled on his shoes then jumped to his feet and fled the campsite with Amy's determined glare trailing after him. It was too early in the morning for him to deal with the likes of Amy DeLuca on a rampage.
Amy's morning grumpiness showed every sign off expanding into something considerably more lethal and scorching, fanned and fed by Michael's carefree use of the phrase "erotic fantasy" in reference to her one and only daughter. Her *teenage* daughter. She knew that they'd been sleeping together until now, but damn it she didn't want to be reminded of it! Or have other people see that she knew about it. Or see other people seeing that she knew about it....
"Amy?"
"What!?" she exploded.
Jim Valenti recoiled defensively, and then took a deep breath. He loved this woman. If this was Amy in the morning, he'd better learn to live with it. "You mentioned Liz and Maria, but not Isabel. How is she this morning?"
Amy's mind hiccupped and abruptly switched tracks, from fury to worry. "I don't think that she's angry anymore if that's what you're asking. But I'd say that she's definitely upset." Amy sipped her coffee again, the rolled the mug thoughtfully between her hands. "She was slow to get up this morning, and she had this blank look a lot. I'd catch her staring out a window, staring at a wall, or the ceiling; or staring at nothing at all....lost in thought. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that brooding ran in the alien genes. It's for damn sure that *something* is bothering her. Whether or not it's the same something as yesterday, I don't know." Amy sighed. "Sometimes kids are easy to read, like Liz and Maria. Sometimes they're hard, like Isabel. On the whole I'd prefer easy."
It never occurred to any of the adults that the state of mind of all three girls was be connected by a common thread.
"I have an idea," said a voice from behind them.
They turned around to find a fully dressed Kyle standing outside of the door of his tent, and he looked like death warmed over.
"What was that?" Amy asked. She was frowning again, because Kyle looked so pale and drawn.
Kyle walked over to her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Amy, I know that you have this mother thing going for all of us. And we appreciate it. *I* appreciate it. But you've got to understand that our lives aren't normal anymore. They'll never be anything close to normal again. So we'll never have normal issues," he heaved a long-suffering sigh and finished, "never again.
"Kyle?" his father queried, puzzled at his son's behavior, and his unexpected forthrightness; and more than a little worried about his appearance.
"Morning dad," he said firmly, and then he turned back to Amy. "So, instead of trying to guess, just ask. If they want to answer, they will. If they don't, don't crowd them like you would normal kids. Because there are times when you just wouldn't understand, and couldn't help even if you did." He dropped his hand from her shoulder and started to back away. "Because they're not normal. We're not normal." He gave a hollow brittle sounding laugh. "Boy are we ever *not* normal." He glanced around the campsite, as if surprised by where he was. "I've got to hit the john." Then he spun on his heel and started to leave, only to be halted by the sound of his father's voice.
"Son? What's the matter? What's wrong??
Kyle halted for a moment and said, without turning, "Dad, do you remember what I said about there being times when you shouldn't crowd?"
"Yes son?"
Kyle sighed. "This would be one of those times." Then he started walking again. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes," he shouted back to them.
There were now three very puzzled adults in camp who were staring at each other, as if uncertain of what to say, and who should say it first.
It's doubtful that they would have been comforted to know that two very discomfited young men had just nodded to Kyle on their way back to the campsite after a very puzzling and uninformative telepathic exchange with their respective soul mates.
Sometime Earlier....in the Motor Home
Liz had awakened this morning on top of the world. Yes, she'd lost some sleep the night before, but it had been in a good cause. And, surprisingly, she'd been able to drop right off to sleep again at once. Comparing notes with Maria, while Amy was getting dressed, she discovered that her friend had also had a blissful night.
"No kidding, Chica," Maria said quietly as they stood together in front of the refrigerator, checking out the breakfast possibilities. "When we got back from the little girls room, I thought that I couldn't possibly fall asleep right away. I figured that I'd be up for hours, waiting for Isabel to so much as crack an eye lid, so that I could pummel her with questions." Maria sighed. "At least that's what I *thought* anyway. The last thing that I remember was feeling a *little* tired when I stretched out next to her.....then it was morning, I was awake, and I was ready to ask questions." Maria leaned back briefly and peeked around the refrigerator door at Isabel, who was currently still laying on her air mattress, staring morosely into space. She might as well have had a 'Do Not Disturb' sign hung around her neck. "Of course that doesn't mean that our new sister in fusion is ready to provide any of the answers." Isabel's morose state did nothing to dampen Maria's spirits though. Isabel would talk before they left the motor home, or else!
Suddenly the door to the bedroom was jerked open and Amy came charging out, fully dressed at last, only to stop short. She'd only been outside the bedroom for a few minutes earlier. Just long enough to wake the girls up and try to get them moving. "Okay, what's with the cheery smiles? Maria, you're my daughter. It's genetically impossible for you to be cheerful in the morning. DeLuca women are *not* morning people!"
The girls' smiles broadened at Amy's antics, which only seemed to irritate her all the more. Then a dreadful suspicion blossomed in her mind.
"There's only one reason for a woman to wear a smile like that in the morning and...." as her daughter opened her mouth to speak, Amy slapped her hands over her ears...."I don't want to hear about it until after my second, or possibly my *third* cup of coffee!" Amy dropped her hands as her grinning daughter made a show of closing her mouth firmly, and then she looked in the refrigerator herself. "Forget milk and cereal, girls. The boys are cooking breakfast this morning, so shake a leg and get dressed." She glanced over at the air mattresses and frowned. Isabel was still at it, playing statue. "You too young lady," she said, addressing the silent and somber girl. Then Amy hustled towards the door, eager to get outside. "Remember what I said. The third cup of coffee, not before!" The door opened and closed.
The room's air pressure seemed to drop without Amy DeLuca in it. Maria rolled her eyes, and Liz chuckled. Then their eyes went back to the silent statue on the air mattresses. They glanced at each other and came to an instant understanding. It was time to start prying.
Typically, Liz took point. "Isabel?" That provoked no reaction at all. "Isabel? Can you hear me?" Liz looked at Maria as if to say, 'What now?'"
Maria's answer was the direct approach. She walked over and sank down onto her air mattress, next to her silent friend. Reaching out she laid a hand on Isabel's shoulder as she spoke. "Talk to us girl friend? What's wrong?"
As Maria's hand made contact with Isabel's shoulder it broke whatever self-induced trance the girl was under. She uttered a small shriek and started violently, returning abruptly from whatever interior reality she'd been visiting. "Maria? What do you want?!" It came out more snappish sounding than she'd intended, so she moderated her tone a little, cleared her throat, and tried again. "What's the matter?"
Maria sat back looking bemused and glanced at Liz, who shrugged. "What's the matter? Hmmm, maybe nothing…then again, maybe everything. You're the only one that can answer that?"
Taking in the exchange between Liz and Maria, Isabel was wearing a guarded look now. "What are you talking about?"
Liz sighed and sat down on the other side of her, tailor fashion. "Iz, Maria and I slept on either side of you last night. It would have been kind of hard to miss what happened."
Isabel flushed deeply, unsure of what to say.
Maria opened her mouth to speak, then her eyes grew into round astonishment and she began to giggle as her soul mate's urgent demand thundered in over their connection. Michael wanted to know what the hell was going on. "~Maria, if your mother is going to toss threats around first thing in the morning, I'd at least like to know *why* I'm being threatened.~" A quick glance at Liz showed that she was fielding a similar demand from Max.
Liz was beyond exasperated. "~Max, we're still sorting things out in here,~" Liz remonstrated. "~Until we do, I can't tell you a thing. I'm giving you the same line that I gave Alex back when you guys wanted to keep him out. It's not my secret to tell!~"
"~A-ha! So there is a secret!~" Max shot back as he pounced on her tacit admission.
"~Maxwell Evans, in another minute you're going to make me angry. You wouldn't *like* me when I'm angry,~" she said, shooting him droll image of Liz the She-Hulk tossing her soul mate against a wall through their connection. "~All that you and Michael had to deal with was Amy DeLuca before morning coffee. Toughen up. We'll be out when we're out.~" She was about to slam the connection shut when she paused and opened it just a crack again. "~By the way....good morning, and I love you.~" She fired a warm mental kiss to him, then closed the connection.
A sudden jerk of Maria's head indicated that she'd just broken off communications with her better half as well. She was silent for a moment then she snickered. "My mom, the terror."
Liz chuckled as well. She was about to add something of her own when Isabel broke into the exchange.
"Excuse me, but what was that? You two break into *my* train of thought to start a conversation, then you both go all silent and telepathic," Isabel snapped out. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just ignore you both and go back to what I was doing before?" Then she froze, realizing what she'd said, and what it meant. "Okay, I missed something along the way. Maria, when exactly did *you* and Michael....er..."
"Merge?" Maria added, trying to be helpful. "Become the parents of a bouncing baby It?"
Isabel snorted. "Let's just say yes and leave it at that. Does your mother know?"
Maria laughed. "It was Wednesday." She paused as her brow wrinkled. "God! Was it only two days ago? Anyway, trust me when I say that it was a moving experience. And no, my mother doesn't know, and I'd prefer to keep it that way for now. We would have told you girl friend, but so much was going on that we never got around to it."
Isabel's mood shifted somewhat, and she smiled faintly. "I'll bet, but now I have to get used to *you* going off into long telepathic silences too," she half complained.
Maria smiled. "And what were you doing before, hmmm? Could it be that you were having a telepathic conversation of your very own with a good friend of ours?"
Isabel looked startled and answered, "Now why would I...?" Then she broke off abruptly as what Maria had said sank in. Isabel hadn't yet consciously accepted that her complaint about their telepathic silences now applied with equal force to her as well. Now that Maria had rubbed her nose in it she had no choice, but to fully absorb the implications. "Oh...My...God! We'll be able to...I mean I hadn't counted on.... Oh God, he'll know!" Then she collapsed in tears, sobbing bitterly as she stretched out, pillowing her head in her arms.
Liz and Maria were staring at each other, thunderstruck. This was not going how they'd both imagined it would.
Liz reached out to stroke Isabel's shoulder. "Isabel, what is it? Talk to us." Liz slid closer and stretched out her legs. Then she tugged at Isabel's shoulders, urging her to place her head in Liz's lap. After Isabel shifted her position, she seemed to quiet as Liz stroked her hair.
Maria reached out as well and began to gently rub Isabel's back. "Girl friend, we know that you and Alex joined the fusion club last night, so we were...I don't know...expecting something this morning. We just weren't expecting this." Maria sighed deeply. "C'mon, spill it."
Isabel sighed, and pulled free of their gentle hands as she sat up, scrubbed at her face and tossed her hair back. She looked from one to the other of her friends and said, "Try and remember what the guy named Methos looks like."
The two girls looked at each other for a moment and traded a shrug.
"Okay, done," Liz said.
"How old is he?" Isabel queried.
"What?" Maria asked back. "Why would...? Isabel cut her off.
"Humor me."
Liz shrugged. "Mid to late thirties."
"I'd have said early forties myself," Maria answered.
Isabel's eyes were watering again. "You're both wrong," she quavered.
Hoping that Isabel would get to a point soon, Maria took the bait. "So we're wrong. How old is he, fifty?"
Isabel sniffled. "Not even close. Try five thousand."
"WHAT?!" both girls chorused.
Isabel sighed. "I didn't count on that massive exchange of information last night. I know it all now, down to the last detail. They don't age...and they don't die other than by violence, in The Game." She gulped. "Methos is so old that memories of his earliest years are sketchy for him. Five thousand years. Cassandra is over thirty-seven hundred. Amanda is well over a millennium herself. Duncan qualifies as the baby of the oldsters group at over four hundred. Richie is of more recent origins, he only made the jump to full Immortal a few years ago." Isabel shuddered. "They're Immortals."
Liz was dumbstruck. The information had been there, most of it anyway; she'd simply never bothered to reason it out completely, trusting to the fact that they'd learn everything sooner or later. She'd thought that they might be pretty 'long-lived', but immortality and eternal youth had never even crossed her mind. "Damn it, I have got to *stop* doing that," she thought, "I can't keep 'assuming' things like that, or it's going to get one or more of us killed someday. What we don't know can be lethal." She regarded Isabel with a mixture of pity and awe. "Or at least pretty damned heartbreaking."
Isabel sniffed again. "That's why they cut themselves off from everyone. They stop aging at their first death. Alex is going to be a teenager forever. They don't regard it as fair, for either a mortal to watch the person they love remain young while they age, or for an Immortal to watch the person that *they* love grow old and die; taken from them an inch at a time." Isabel was folding in on herself. "God, what are we going to do? Alex, isn't awake yet, thank God. When he *does* wake up he's going to know how I feel!"
"Which obviously isn't very good," thought Maria, and then she spoke aloud. "How do you feel? Are you mad at him?"
"At Alex?" Why would I be mad at him?" Isabel managed to sniffle out.
"Because he lied to you, by omission, and because he withheld ‘need to know’ information?" Liz asked, trying to lead her gently into getting her feelings out.
Isabel shuddered. "But I know *why* he did. God, do I know why. He loves me so much. He was so scared of losing me, or even the hope of me, forever. But at the same time he was so afraid of hurting me simply by being what he is. These last months have been like wound that wouldn't heal for him. I can feel it. I know what it felt like, because I was feeling it too. I think that, if we hadn't found each other again, we would have both gone mad. I could see it in his mind." Isabel paused, looking thoughtful for the first time. "It's like I can think his thoughts if I want to. Run his mind in parallel with mine. He's going to be scared when he realizes what we've done. Scared for me. It's not just the danger that comes as a part of his life now, though that will be a factor. He'll be afraid that the fusion has chained me to a freak who will remain young forever, while I grow old and die." She sighed. "And he'll be able to read *my* fear, of his fear."
"And what are *you* afraid of, Iz?" Liz asked.
"Of growing old, dying, and leaving Alex alone." She paused. "Have you thought about what will happen to us when and if one of us dies? What happens to your soul mate? What if they die too? What if.....?" Maria cut her off abruptly.
"Screw that!"
Isabel blinked in surprise. "W..w..what?" she stuttered.
"I said screw that," Maria said firmly. "Isabel, most people think that I'm a flighty bubble brain, and a lot of the time they're right. But I *do* think occasionally." She nodded at Liz. "And speaking for the brunette over there, with her thinking is an addiction, a vice." Maria sighed. "This is what I regret the most about the way things have gone between the three of us girls from day one. There's *so* much that Liz and I have talked about that *you* should have been a part of, as a friend first, a girl second, and an alien third. Oh the girls nights that we could have had!"
"I don't understand?" Isabel stammered, feeling a pang of regret because…she agreed with Maria.
"Look Sweetie," Maria said, hitting her stride. "All you have is a bigger chunkier version of the same problem that we all have. The uncertainty of life." Maria paused to collect her thoughts. "Liz and I had long midnight talks about this when we realized where our hearts were leading us. Just how long do alien hybrids live? How do they age? How were you *designed* to age?"
Last edited by Kzinti_Killer on Sat Sep 23, 2006 11:01 am, edited 1 time in total.
Dragons, Ogres, & Pretty Boy Lawyers Slain, Reasonable Rates, Call After 5:00 At 1-900-OhMyGodWhatWereTheyThinkingOf
"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
-- Henry Jenkins
"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
-- Henry Jenkins