Roswell Fanatics

"Thank you. I hope it tastes as good as it smells," she said as her son poured himself a cup of coffee. She turned the burner down to simmer to keep the homemade oatmeal with raisins and cinnamon warm. Then she poured herself a cup of coffee and took a seat next to her son. "So has it sunk in yet? Sammy being here and all?" she inquired.

Max shook his head and smiled. "I'm not sure. Maybe after...after everything is settled. And he's staying here...permanently, it'll seem real, but right now it feels more like he's just visiting. You know?"

"Ah," she commented in understanding. "I remember when we first brought you and Isabel home. It wasn't until you two started fighting over that stupid remote control car that your father brought home, and I had to yell at the both of you for the first time, that it felt like we were really a family. Don't worry, your time is coming," she finished with a chuckle.

Max shook his head seriously this time. "No way. He's a good kid. I am not going to have to yell at him," he adamantly responded.

"Uh-huh," was her knowing reply.

"Ah-choo, ah-choo!" announced Sammy's presence.

Max jumped out of his seat with alarm. "You're sick!" he said as his glowing hand ran up and down Sammy, looking for what was wrong.

"No, I'm not. I just sneezed, that's all," Sammy said between sniffles.

Max escorted his son to a seat at the table as he finished his alien scanning. "Hmm, I can't find anything specific, but that's not unusual if it's a virus. I have to be able to locate something before I can fix it and a virus can be hard to find. Damn it! You shouldn't have stayed outside so late playing in that cold snow!" he admonished in a raised voice.

Diane handed her grandson a glass of juice and a Kleenex as he sneezed again. "Congratulations Max, he's officially family now," she said as she patted her own son on his head.

Max shot his mom a scowl for a moment. "Liz has a thermometer upstairs. I can't tell if he has a fever or not. Be right back," he said as his hand lingered at his son's forehead for a moment before he dashed upstairs.

"Grandma, I'm not sick. I just sneezed. I feel fine," Sammy pleaded.

"Uh-uh. I'm sure that it's just a minor case of the sniffles, but humor your dad. He's rather new at this, and he's always been a bit of a worrywart," she soothed as only a grandmother can.

Max returned with the thermometer and promptly stuck it in Sammy's mouth, then watched closely as the numbers on the digital readout began to climb. "Mom, 98.6 is normal, right?"

"Yes," Diane calmly replied while she rose to stir the pot of oatmeal.

"So the fact that it reads 99.7 means he has a fever, and he's sick," Max stated firmly.

Sammy popped the thing out of his mouth and scowled at it.

"But Max, is 98.6 normal for aliens? You and Isabel always seemed to be slightly warm to me, but you were never ill, that I can recall," she reminded him.

"Hmm, you've got a point," he admitted.

"See, told ya I wasn't sick," Sammy said a little smugly.

Max scowled then he picked up the phone and dialed the only other woman in town who had experience with alien children. "Hey Chase, ready for school? Good, good. So, can I talk to your mom? Okay, good luck on that test today, kiddo...Hi Maria? I have a question for you. What's the normal temperature for one of your kids?" he asked, and then frowned in confusion at the answer.
"Huh? What do you mean it depends on what they've done? Oh...no, no, I mean Sammy's running a temperature of 99.7, and we're trying to figure out what would be normal for a quarter/half-alien." He looked over at his son as he listened to her reply. "Oh, okay, thanks Maria, and yes I'll let Liz know that you'll be over with Alex this afternoon," he said as he hung up the phone.

"Well?" Diane asked.

Max looked at his son and shook his head. "You're sick. Maria said that they're usually around 98.9-99.0, unless they're trying hard to stay home sick. She said that she has to use one of those old-fashioned mercury type thermometers. The kids haven't figured out how to manipulate those yet. So Sammy, make yourself comfortable. You're in for the day. Maybe you should go back to bed?" he suggested. He got a definite scowl from his son, who remained where he was, by way of a reply.

Diane smiled at her grandson sympathetically. "Well Sammy, since Philip and Gary are accompanying your dad to work again this morning, it looks like you're with us ladies for today. Actually that may work out for the best. I wanted to run to the store for a couple of things, and I was sort of hoping to get to see this incredible restaurant and bar that my children are supposed to own with their friends that I've heard so much about, but haven't seen yet," she said pointedly while giving her son a level glare for a moment before she went on. "So, maybe you could stay with Liz for an hour this afternoon Sammy...that is if you're not too ill?" she added with just a hint of a knowing smile, which drew a groan from her grandson.

~

Sammy was bored stiff. He'd watched all the stuff on regular cable. Everything was all repeats or stupid soaps. He sighed. It was too bad that they took Jerry Springer off last year. He was going to have to talk Dad into something better than basic cable. The only good side of this being sick stuff was Grandma made him homemade chicken soup and apple crisp. He could get used to that. He carefully peered around the doorway of his father's bedroom and lightly rapped his knuckles on the open door. "Can I get you anything Liz?" he asked.

Liz scooted around in the bed, trying to get comfortable. She had no luck. She finally gave up and did her best to sort of sit up while remaining on her side. She nodded towards the overstuffed chair. "Come on in and have a seat." He did as she said without a word. As they then just sat and stared at each other, then at the floor, the ceiling, out the window, finally Liz decided that this had to stop. "Sammy, Max...your dad, and I are very excited about you being here with us and we're both glad that you want to stay." She didn't know what to think when Sammy just nodded his head and looked at the floor. "Sammy, what is it? Be honest with us, with me. It's as... strange for us as it is for you, and may be for a while. The way to get around that is to talk about anything that's bothering you. Tell me, please?"

Sammy hesitated. He hadn't really made any attempt to get to know his dad's wife yet. With her stuck in bed, it had been fairly easy to avoid being around her since she had gotten out of the hospital. And now, after hearing what his mother had done, he wasn't really too anxious to be alone with her. He flicked his eyes in her direction then back to the floor as the acid began to build in his stomach. "Wh-who do you see when you look at me?" he hesitantly asked.

"Your father's son." Liz replied. She hadn't missed the fact that Sammy had been staying away from her. "Why? Who should I see?"

"I'm my mother's son, too," he stated almost too softly to hear.

Liz was quiet for a moment. She knew what Max had told him about his mother. She had warned him that Sammy might have some problems dealing with it, and obviously she had been right. Even with what Max had censored, Sammy was still hurt. Her hand automatically went to her stomach where the baby was busy moving around, including a great deal of kicking. She smiled and looked back over at Sammy. "Really? I don't see it. Sammy, your dad and I had 15 years to work out our issues concerning Tess. That's between him and I, and it has nothing to do with you. Now come here. I want you to feel something." She took his reluctant hand and placed it on her very active belly. The look of shock and surprise on his face was priceless. "I think that your sister is anxious to meet you in person," Liz said with a warm smile.

"Wow, that's...that's weird, really, really weird." Sammy commented as he felt the baby kick and move around again. "What's it feel like for you?" he wanted to know.

"Mmm, weird pretty much describes it. I'm glad that you'll be on hand when she's born," she told him.

He grinned broadly at the thought of having a baby sister. He'd never had any siblings...and he did have a lot of fun with his "cousins" last night. His warm smile faded as another thought came to him. "Wait, you...you don't expect me to actually be there when it's born? Do you? I mean that's what a waiting room is for," he observed.

Liz couldn't help but chuckle. Kyle had sported a somewhat similar expression the other day when he'd had to play stand-in for Max until he got back. "No, just in the labor room to keep your dad distracted so he doesn't drive me up the wall, but I expect you'll be wanting to join the rest in the waiting room for the actual event itself."

"Okay, I can do that." Sammy smiled at his step-mom as his fears began to melt away. He turned as he heard the downstairs door open. He smiled again as he heard the voice.

"Yoo-hoo," Maria called as she walked up the stairs. Coming around the doorway she grinned big time at the sight before her. Sammy was standing there with his hand on Liz's belly. "Well, well, well, I take it that the little one is active today," she observed as she walked in and went to hug the other Evans child, who ducked.

"You're gonna do the pinching thing again," Sammy accused as he backed up to avoid her hug.

Maria regarded him with a pure innocent gaze, and advanced on him until he was backed up against the night table. She kept advancing until she wrapped him in a tight hug and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Then with a twinkle in her eye, she reached down and pinched him on the butt. He was adorable as he gave off a little "yelp" in surprise. She chuckled at his reaction and said, "What? At least it was a different cheek this time." She looked over at her youngest as he climbed up on the bed to get hugs and kisses from Auntie Liz. "Okay Alex, easy. Come on, maybe your cousin Sammy could play with you and your ball so Liz and I can chat for a bit." Alex could be a bit much sometimes. She then turned to the teen who was still a little red cheeked as it were, over the pinching thing. "Would you mind Sammy? Alex is usually pretty good, but he can be a handful, he is after all a Guerin. Oh wait...how are you feeling, still sneezing, coughing, sore throat? Last thing I need is all four home sick," she remarked as her hand went to his forehead.

"Like I told Dad, I feel fine. I just had the sniffles this morning, but I haven't even sneezed for the last hour," he told her.

"Hmm, still a little warm, but that could be normal. Okay, would you mind keeping an eye on him for a few minutes?" the mother of four asked. As the teen picked up the toddler and backpack of toys that she never left home without, and headed downstairs the toddler's mother muttered, "Hmm, yes. I'll make a babysitter out of him yet. Give him good practice for that little one that you've got baking in there." Maria pointed out to her best friend once the youth was out of earshot.

"Maria, you're enjoying this a little too much," Liz accused.

"Yeah, so sue me. So how you feeling, Chica?" Maria inquired as she sat at the foot of the bed with one ear tuned towards the happenings of downstairs, so far, so good. "Are you and Sammy bonding any?"

Liz sighed. "I don't know, maybe a little. He has issues about Tess."

Maria gave a snort. "Didn't we all?" Maria quipped. She raised her hand to forestall Liz's comeback. "I know. I know, water under the bridge. But Liz, are you sure?"

They both listened for a moment. The sounds of "Alex, NOOOO. Wait. Don't. Wait! Alex come back here!" came filtering up the stairs. Maria concentrated on those sounds for a moment then shrugged. At least Sammy could be trusted to keep a close eye on the baby. He'd figure the rest out eventually. Maria turned her attention back to her friend, "Well Lizzy?"

Liz ran her fingertips up and down her expanding belly. "I guess maybe it's the maternal instinct kicking in, but yeah, it is okay. I've always thought of Zan as Max's son, not Max and Tess's. Emotionally removing her from equation helped me to deal... and accept things. That way if, and when, Max and Zan were reunited... it would be just Max's son I was raising and not...hers. I know, the logic isn't perfect, but now that he's here...I really only see Max in him. I don't see her in him at all. Does that make sense?"

"Alex, no, put that down. Alex. Alex, why is your hand glowing? How? No, no, don't touch the wall with... Great, just great, now there're silver handprints all over the wall." Maria smiled to herself as she listened to the panicked voice downstairs. "Chica, if it works for you, then yeah, it makes sense," she reassured her friend. "Besides, I agree, he's definitely Max's son. Now, as soon as Diane gets back we'll go over the different wallpaper border samples for the nursery she's picking up today. Oh, and I suggested that she get some paint swatches for the nursery and Sammy's room too. Don't forget, you've got two rooms to redecorate now." she informed her lifelong friend.

"And I'm doing this from bed?" Liz asked incredulously.

"Hey, no rolling the eyes on me, young lady. We've done the impossible plenty of times, what's once more? Besides, we've got lots of help this time," Maria reminded the soon-to-be mom.

"Alex, no, don't...not the lamp!" BANG! CRASH! "MARIA!" Sammy released the plaintive cry of defeat.

"Ah, sounds like I might need to check on things down there. I don't want to scare Sammy off. I have big plans for that boy," Maria said as she patted Liz on the knee and then headed downstairs to right the wrongs in her baby boy's life, and rescue a nephew and novice alien babysitter.

~

Ryan led the charge into their second home. Mom had left a note on the door that she was across the street with Aunt Liz and to come on over. That was fine with them. Uncle Max was known for his sweet tooth and they knew he always had a candy stash. They just needed to find it. "MOM! WE'RE HERE!" announced the tornado that hit the normally quiet Evans abode.

Megan was already checking the second kitchen drawer from the bottom. "Rats! He moved it."

"Don't worry, we'll find it. We always do," Chase calmly reassured his sister as he dragged a kitchen chair over to the counter, so he could check the cupboards above.

"Nada," Ryan announced after scouring the bottom cupboards. "Hey, you don't suppose he stuck it in the freezer again, do you? Man, I hate it when he freezes the chocolate," he proclaimed as he dragged yet another kitchen chair over to the refrigerator and popped the freezer door open.

"AH HA! FOUND IT!" Megan proclaimed as she pulled a 5-pack of jumbo Hershey bars out of the towel drawer and held it up for all to see.

"Hey, what's going on?" Sammy asked as he came around the corner and into the kitchen. "Your mom asked me to come down and see what you guys were up to. Uh, what are you doing? Where'd you find the candy?" he asked as he pointed to the, as yet unopened, chocolate treats.

"It's Uncle Max's stash. He hides it so that we can't find it. It never works, although he is starting to get a little better at hiding it," Chase explained then hushed everyone as he strained to listen for a minute. "Uh-oh, quick, Megan, hide it. Mom's coming," he quickly instructed. Mom was a bit faster than he thought and they only had a couple of seconds to line up with their hands behind their backs. The chocolate was still in Megan's hand as Mom suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

Maria immediately knew that they were up to something. It was just too quiet downstairs, even after sending Sammy down, it was still too quiet. Her eyes narrowed as her three little angels lined up in the kitchen, correction, make that four. Sammy was at the end of the line. He was obviously a little less practiced at the 'I'm so innocent' routine, because he was the only one that looked semi-guilty of something. "Hmmm, so how was school?" she began the inquisition.

"Fine" was the united reply.

"So what..." the phone ringing interrupted her interrogation as she turned to answer, "Hello, Evans residence. Oh Max, hi, yeah, Liz is fine. She took a nap and your mom and Liz and I are trying to figure out how to do the nursery. Sammy's fine, too. So what...wait, what do you mean the band says they can't perform tomorrow night unless they get a percentage? We have a contract! Sorry, you're not the one that I meant to yell at. Okay, give me 10 minutes and I'll be there." She had to stop herself from slamming the phone down when she hung up. "Stupid musicians. A little local air play and now they think they can command any price!" she grumbled under her breath. She strummed her fingers on the back of a kitchen chair and eyed her children. They were just working too hard at looking that innocent. They were up to something. She turned her eyes to Sammy, who noticeably swallowed. "Sammy, I need to ask you a favor. I need to go down to the bar and straighten something out. Could you keep an eye on these three? They promise to be on their best behavior. You don't need to worry about Alex. He's still napping in Liz's bed. All that running around you and he did really wore him out. So, are you okay with these three?" she asked.

Sammy's jaw dropped, "Huh?"

Maria didn't hear it. Her attention was already tuned back to her three. "Okay, here's the deal. I saw three backpacks that I'm sure are full of homework on the floor in the living room. I see three kids just standing around with nothing to do. I had better see three kids getting those backpacks, opening them up, pulling out that homework, and quietly sitting down at this table and getting it done while I'm gone. And while you're at it, there will be no fighting, no kicking, no hitting, no zapping, you will not break anything, or worse, try and fix anything. It took your dad and Uncle Max two hours to put all my living room furniture back together the last time Ryan decided to fix that wobbly leg on the end table," she reminded them.

"Geez Mom, that was last year. I'm much better at it now," Ryan said in his defense.

"Well, let's not test that just now." She stood and looked at each one, still just standing there. "Well, what are you waiting for? Go get your backpacks!" she commanded them.

Behind their backs the pack of Hershey bars was passed from Megan's hands to Ryan's, and then to Chase's, and finally ended up in a slightly surprised Sammy's hands. Sammy wasn't sure what to do, so he did nothing. As the three of them returned to the kitchen and started pulling their homework out he tried to make conversation. "So Aunt Maria, any instructions? Uh, afternoon snack?" he asked as the chocolate bars seemed to be getting heavier and heavier in his hands.

"Sure they can have a snack, just try and make it healthy, maybe some apples or something. I should be back in less than an hour and Diane is upstairs if you need any help, which you shouldn't," she advised as she went upstairs to tell Liz and Diane that she was leaving for a bit.

"Sammy, Sammy, grab an apple and act like you're cutting it up or something," Chase advised as they waited until Mom came back downstairs before leaving.

Not sure what else to do with it, Sammy stuck the candy underneath a dishtowel on the counter and grabbed an apple. He was washing it when Maria stuck her head back in the kitchen for a moment.

"Okay guys, BE-HAVE!" Maria warned one final time as she slipped on her jacket and was out the door.

"Ryan, go check," Chase instructed his brother. Ryan always made the best lookout.

Sammy watched as a few minutes later Ryan came back in and pronounced the coast was clear. Sammy looked at the apple that was still in his hand. "So you guys want this?" he lamely asked as he held the apple up.

Chase got up and walked over to the counter to retrieve the candy pack and showed it to Sammy. "What would you rather have? Hershey bar or an apple?" he asked his new cousin.

"Good point, but your mom said healthy," Sammy reminded them.

"No, Mom said 'try and make it healthy'. She didn't say that you had to," Chase reasonably pointed out.

"Oh," was all Sammy could think of to say as Chase passed the candy bars out. "Well, maybe if you have some milk, maybe that might kinda balance it out...sort of," Sammy suggested. He poured four glasses of milk and helped himself to a candy bar as he joined them at the table and helped Chase with his math problems and quizzed Ryan for his history test tomorrow.

Diane came down to check. It was awfully quiet downstairs. She was quite impressed to find all three of the Guerin children at the table studiously working on homework with Sammy helping them some. Then she spied their chocolate smeared mouths. "Sammy, what are they eating?"

"Oh, uh, candy bars," Sammy replied as casually as possible.

"Sammy, I'm not sure..." Diane began.

Megan held up the last chocolate bar. "Here Grandma Diane. We saved you one," Megan sweetly offered.

Diane wanted to decline, but that sweet little face...she felt she just sold her soul for a candy bar as she accepted the offer. "Well, maybe Liz might want a little," she sighed as she poured Liz and herself glasses of milk and took them back upstairs.

~

Max was dying for a chocolate fix, that fruit salad Mom had fixed for dessert just wasn't cutting it as he rechecked underneath the kitchen towels in the drawer. He was certain that he had put them there. He jumped when the light went on, startling him. Turning around to see who it was, "Oh, hey Dad. Sorry I woke you."

"You didn't wake me. I was thinking of getting a snack. What about you?" the elder Evans male said to his son.

"Yeah, same thought, but I can't find it. I know I bought a five pack of candy bars and stuck in here the other day, and now they're gone," Max explained as he looked in the drawer one more time in the light.

"Hey, what's going on?" the still sleepy looking third generation Evans asked as he stumbled into the kitchen.

"Sammy, were Chase, Ryan and Megan here today with Maria?" Max asked.

"Yeah," Sammy answered while still rubbing his eyes.

Max sighed. "They got to it. I don't know how they do it, but they always seem to know where the chocolate is located in this house no matter where I hide it. I put a bag of M&M's in a strong box once. They fried the lock and still snagged the candy," he recalled and shook his head in amazement.

Sammy remained silent.

~

Part 14

Simon glanced at his watch again. It read a quarter 'til 2:00. He looked over at the man, correction, the alien, that was sitting at ease across from his desk. The alien. The idea still boggled his mind. He would have never known the difference by simply looking. Cal Langley looked and acted like any other Hollywood big shot that he'd dealt with in the past, but he wasn't, he was an alien. Simon tripped mentally. Then again, so was Sammy and he'd never known, never even guessed. Why would he? Aliens were for Star Trek and cheap Saturday afternoon matinee movies. Other than in fiction they didn't exist. That's what normal people, in a sane world, were supposed to believe. With a sigh he thought, "So what's normal now?" He certainly wasn't any longer. "Would you like me to freshen that for you?" Simon said to his 'guest', as he indicated the liquor glass that Langley was holding.

Cal had been sitting back, enjoying a good cigar and some brandy. Or at least he was trying to appear to anyhow. In truth, while he felt a slight twinge in his lungs from the cigar smoke, the brandy had no taste to it at all. He might as well have been drinking bottled water. He knew that they were some of the best that money could buy, and that they were meant to be enjoyed. So he gave it his best shot and silently cursed the teenager that had shown up on his doorstep 16 years ago. He'd told Max he would never forgive him for ruining his life back then, and he hadn't. But then Max had done something completely unexpected. Max had listened to his advice. He'd gone back to his family and his sweetheart, and while it was pretty rocky there for a bit, eventually Max had became the son and the man that Cal had hoped he would, but wasn't certain he could be. Unfortunately that bitch Ava had come back and almost screwed everything up again. Why King Zan ever agreed to *that* marriage in the first place was beyond him. Sure she looked pretty on the arm, but he had always thought of her as too whiny, too needy, and too arrogant. Perhaps that had been it? Her arrogance had matched and played right into King Zan's. Instead of balancing him, she only accentuated his flaws and arrogance. Cal had been shocked to the point of disbelief when Max had given his son up for adoption. It was the first truly unselfish thing that he'd done since saving Liz Parker's life. And it was the first time Cal had actually thought that there was some hope for him yet. Over the years there had been many trials, and Cal had been impressed by how little he'd had to assist them. The old Zan would have insisted that he put them up in some place secure and comfortable. Somewhere where they could be safe and play to their hearts content, while remaining oblivious to the world round them. Instead, Max and the others had done their best to fend for themselves, and to help other people that they met as much as possible. Cal *had* helped them on occasion, and a few times did he have to give them money. But now... now Max had ordered him to take care of things here, and after seeing the bruises on Sammy, he had no objections to taking on the task. He was really going to enjoy this. He swirled the remaining bit of brandy around in his glass and drank it down. Handing the glass to the lawyer he replied, "Yes..thank you, counselor."

Simon was determined not to give into his jitters at having an actual alien sitting in his office. He took a deep breath and told himself that this was just another Hollywood producer and nothing more, as he refilled the brandy snifter. "So, you said that Sammy was doing good with...with his father?" he asked as he forced himself to keep a steady hand while he handed the glass back to Langley.

Cal took the glass and eyed Simon for a moment. As a matter of course, he had done a very thorough background check on both Gary Wilcox and Simon Shapiro. He'd liked what he had found. Simon had almost doubled Sammy's net worth in the last two years, and Cal had found that all of that money was exactly where it should be. Sure Simon was well compensated, but not grossly so and as far as Cal was concerned, Simon had earned every dime of it. The only thing that galled Cal a bit was that Simon wasn't working for him. He took a sip of brandy and swished it around in his mouth. Still nothing. No taste at all. He tipped his glass to Simon. "Good stuff," he remarked. "Yeah, the kid is doing fine. He was helping out in his dad's restaurant and bar the last I saw of him. Believe me when I tell you that Max isn't going to let anyone hurt that boy. He'd lay his life down for him," Cal said, trying to reassure him.

Simon nodded. Gary had told him pretty much the same thing. They'd had a very long talk this morning about Sammy wanting to stay with his biological family. Given the...uniqueness of Sammy's heritage, and of his family Simon tended to agree with the idea, but he'd already made one mistake in this area and he wasn't about to let himself make another one. "What kind of financial help do they need to care for Sammy? From what Gary told me, they aren't wealthy, and suddenly taking on a teen probably isn't something that they'd planned for... plus I understand that Sammy's...stepmother is about to have a baby. I don't want Sammy to...bare the brunt of any financial hardships. He's been through enough already."

Cal took a deep pull on his cigar and a small smile tugged at his lips as he felt the twinge again in his chest for a moment. He blew a smoke ring as he exhaled. "Max won't ask for a dime. If he was interested in money, he could have demanded mine a long time ago, and I would have been obligated to hand over every last plug nickel. I had to help them out a time or two when they were on the run, but nothing extravagant, and nothing more than what they truly needed. And they always paid me back. Even the startup capital for the restaurant and bar that they have, and the garage, was a loan that's being paid back, with interest. About the only thing he might ask for is a college fund for Sammy, if that. Nope, Max might not be getting that new Jeep, that I heard he was looking at, for a few more years. But while Sammy might not get everything he wants, Max will make absolutely sure that he gets everything that he needs. And don't forget, Sammy has grandparents now, and I have no doubt that Philip and Diane Evans will do their utmost to make sure some of those 'wants' of Sammy's get addressed."

Simon thought back to that night he took Sammy to dinner. "All Sammy wants is a family to love and one that will love him in return," he said quietly to himself. Then he checked his watch again. "So, almost time. How do you want to play this?" he asked Langley.

"Just get his answer. Put it on speakerphone so I can hear it. If it's not to our liking, we'll simply pay him a little visit afterwards and make him an offer that he can't refuse. Besides, I hear that the place needs some work, and I'm anxious to take a look at it," Cal said with a grin. He silently thanked Max for not demanding something stupid of him, like he couldn't use violence. No, Max had learned a long time ago to not to tie his hands like that unless he really meant it.

At exactly 2:00 PM the call was put through and Simon hit the speaker button. "David," was all he said.

"Simon. I thought it over and decided that since I wouldn't have to worry about the kid anymore, I could live on a lump sum of $15 million, plus the apartment and a monthly allowance of $20 thou for its upkeep. After all, it would be a shame if my dear departed

brother's home fell apart because I couldn't afford to keep it up," David confidently offered.

Simon was about to launch into negotiations again, but Cal held his hand up, motioning him to stop, then shook his head "no". Simon took a breath and replied, "I'll think about it and get back to you...soon." Then he hit the button disconnecting the call and looked over at the alien across from him. A chill ran down his spine at the broad and seriously mean smile that Cal was sporting.

~

As they exited the cab, Cal looked up at the apartment building. It had the right address and location for his needs. Too bad it wasn't the penthouse, but at least he would have the entire floor to himself. And the price was right. The Connors carried no mortgage on it, so it was really just the matter of monthly association dues and maintenance, once it was initially restored, which Cal had agreed to do as part of the bargain. The place would be his for three years, with a yearly option after that providing Sammy didn't want to move back in once he turned eighteen. All in all, on paper it wasn't a bad deal at all. Now he just needed to get a look at it...and clean out the riff-raff. "Well, let's go do some house cleaning," he remarked as they entered the building.

The doorbell surprised David since he wasn't expecting anyone. But the day had already been surprising enough. He still wasn't sure what to think of Simon's response. He had expected him to make a counteroffer and instead Simon simply hung up. "The day is just getting more freaky," he said to himself as he opened the door to reveal Simon standing there along some short weird looking dude. "So to what do I owe this honor?" was David's greeting.

Cal followed Simon in. After one glance at good ol' Uncle David, Cal mentally dismissed him. He was no more than trash that Cal would need to take out before leaving. No, instead he focused his attention on the apartment itself. The oak flooring was suffering greatly and was in need of refinishing. Some of the Italian tiles were cracked in the kitchen. The walls definitely needed paint, and the wall coverings were stained and even ripped in some places. He continued his own private tour of the place, mentally noting what needed to be done while keeping his face impassive. But he was boiling on the inside as he saw sign after sign of neglect and outright vandalism. Underneath its current appearance he could tell that, at one point, this had been a magnificent home and that someone with excellent taste had given a great deal of attention to fine details. He almost lost it when he saw dried vomit on the silk tapestry in the formal dining room. "Yes, there's a lot of clean up to do here and there's no time like the present to get started," he thought as he finished the self-guided tour and headed back into the hall.

David had Simon cornered in the hall trying to get answers, but so far wasn't having any luck. Even though Simon was average sized, David had a good 3 or 4 inches on him and at least 20 pounds. David's anger grew as Simon simply refused to answer any questions including giving an explanation of who the little prick was who was touring the place. "What the f*ck is going on?" he screamed. "Who the f*ck is that asshole? Look you little fag, this is my home and I want you and whoever that is out of here, NOW!" he raged at him.

Cal watched the exchange for a moment and silently congratulated Simon on keeping his face impassive. But enough was enough and it was time to get down to business. "Actually, you're wrong. I signed a three-year lease on this property this morning. As of noon today, this is my home," he casually explained as he purposefully swaggered into view.

David spun around and faced the little man. "WHAT? You're f*cking lying. This is my home. It belongs to my family."

Simon spoke for the first time. "Actually, it belongs to Sammy. It was part of his inheritance and, since I control his inheritance, I control this apartment. With Sammy's consent, I leased this place to Mr. Langley this morning. I'm sorry David, but you're going to have to leave," he said in his best lawyer tone.

"You can't be f*cking serious! This is *my* home and I'm not leaving!" he bellowed as he stood his ground. He wasn't worried. He was certain that if it came down to it, he wouldn't have any problem physically throwing them both out, the little pipsqueaks.

"Oh, but you're wrong. You are leaving. The real question is, in how many pieces?" Cal casually informed him with a delighted grin.

David almost laughed until he saw the look on Cal's face. It made him break out in gooseflesh. He gave himself a mental slap and laughed. "Yeah, you and what army? Quit wasting my time and get out!" He was losing patience and started walking towards this shrimp, Langley guy.

Cal's eyes took on a special gleam of delight. "Be careful," he cautioned the bully. "What Sammy gave you was nothing more than a tap on the shoulder compared to what I can and will do to you." He was almost disappointed to see David stop in his tracks. He was looking forward to following up on the threat. "So, here's the deal. I believe that Simon originally offered you a million for a couple of signatures and your disappearance. If you have any brain cells left, you'll take the offer and run...far, far away, and forget you ever saw anything."

David was caught off guard by Langley's comments. He still wasn't entirely sure what Sammy had done that night. He had been telling himself it had all been his imagination. But now...what if it had all been real? "Don't be ridiculous," he told himself. "Simon must have mentioned it to this Langley dude just so he could freak me out," his drug-warped brain reasoned incorrectly. "BULLSHIT!" he shouted, with his bravado once again firmly in place. "For the last time, GET THE F*CK OUT!"

Simon looked at the joy Cal was projecting and for the first time ever, he almost felt sorry for David. He really didn't understand the danger he was in. Actually, Simon didn't either, since he hadn't witnessed anything 'alien' yet. But Gary had given him a very detailed account of the battle with the FBI agents, plus what he had witnessed Sammy doing to Cal when they first met. "No, David has not a clue," he thought, and despite his better judgment he decided to give him a final warning. "David, you don't know what you're messing with. Take the deal."

"F*CK OFF!" David snarled. Without warning, he found himself flying through the air until his back slammed into the wall, where he amazingly stayed pinned and dangling about two feet from the floor.

"That was just to get your attention." With a flick of the wrist Cal flung the hapless human face first against the other wall, but this time he let him drop to the ground. "And that was to make sure you didn't think the first was just a fluke, or an hallucination." As Cal stepped closer, the big man trembled with fear while frantically trying to stop the flow of blood from his nose. Cal's grin only broadened. He was thoroughly enjoying himself now. "So, let's try this again. This is now my apartment, and *you* are trespassing. But I'm feeling generous and I'll give you, oh, say an hour to pack up your things and leave. And in return for this generosity you will show me where all the pawn tickets are for every item you've ever stolen from this house and hawked, after you sign over temporary custody of Sammy to Simon here and accept the million-dollar payout," Cal explained.

David was in too much shock to think clearly and didn't really comprehend what was being said. "Y-y-you're like S-s-s-ammy! A-a-a FREAK! T-t-the police. I'm calling the police," he mumbled as he shakily tried to get on his feet.

Cal just shook his head at the stupidity of the guy in front of him. He really was a piece of work. "You're even denser than I thought. Maybe some fresh air will help you to clear your head," he nonchalantly remarked as he lifted David into the air and floated him, inverted of course in hopes the extra blood flow to the brain might help his thinking, down the hall and out to the large balcony and just a tad bit beyond its railing. As David hung upside down suspended 12 stories in the air, Cal continued his explanation. "Okay, let's try it a little slower this time to make sure that you get it. I allow two kinds of people to know about me. Those that quietly get on with their lives, and those that don't. Right now you are leaning closer to the latter category than the former. You will either comply with my powers of persuasion or in a drugged out haze you just may take a header off of the balcony, leaving poor Sammy Connor once more an orphan, but with all his cash intact. So what have you decided?" Cal asked as he calmly took a cigar from his breast pocket, trimmed off the end, and lit it. He casually blew smoke rings as he watched the man blubber and cry, while gasping for breath. "Oh, don't worry about me. I can keep you hanging around for a while before tiring, so you have plenty of time to decide. After all, you wouldn't want to rush such a major decision. By the way, how's the breathing? Bet it's a bit difficult with that bloody nose, huh?" he asked as he puffed on his stogy.

Simon was shocked with the speed and sudden violence of Cal's attack, and the total disregard for life. At first he was too stunned to speak, but as David continued to hang there, gasping and babbling like an idiot, he finally found his voice. "CAL! STOP! You can't do this. I won't be a party to...to torture! Not even of the likes of him. You have to stop!" Simon pleaded.

Cal regarded the counselor for a long moment, then he said, "Very well. But let's be clear. I do not take orders from you. Don't expect my capitulation again, counselor." He then turned back around and waved David back inside. He waited a few moments for the babbling idiot to regain some sort of composure, but eventually he grew impatient and simply went ahead anyway. "So, are you ready to sign the custody papers?" Cal raised an eyebrow as David nodded affirmative. "And you'll forget all about this nonsense about calling the police or anyone else?" he continued. Again getting a nod in confirmation from David. "Good, good. I'm glad you decided to be reasonable. It's really a good deal you know. You get to keep your head and enjoy the million, but be warned, I'll be keeping an eye on you. You're a drug addict and a liability, and well, I don't really care for assholes that get off on beating up helpless kids. So I'll know immediately if you screw up and blab anything to anyone. And just so there's no doubt in this matter, my instructions NEVER said that I had to let you live." he added as a final warning. He was pleased to see how big dear ol' Uncle David's eyes got. "Now, let's get those papers signed so you can show me where those pawn tickets are."

~

A little over an hour later Cal was back in his private hotel suite with Simon, finishing up business, after making sure his new apartment was secure and squatter free. As Cal sipped a scotch he noted to himself that the counselor was on his fourth drink. "Feeling better, counselor?" he inquired solicitously.

Simon spun around and glared. "Do I look like I'm better? You nearly killed him!"

"Ah, but nearly doesn't count, counselor. Don't worry. David Connor is out of your hair and away from Sammy at a reasonable price. So, as far as you and I are concerned, mission accomplished," he reminded Simon.

"Mission accomplished? How can you be so...cold, so callous? If this is what your people are like, then Sammy would be better off with Gary and me. He might have some sort of alien powers, but he'll never be the sort of son of a bitch that I saw *you* be today. I'll make damn sure of it!" Simon spat out as he stood his ground, heedless of what this alien could and might do to him. He was too damned angry to care.

Cal glared at him for a moment then broke into a full belly laugh. "By God, I like you, counselor, I really do. Damn, I wish you'd work for me," he said between gales of laughter. "No worries, counselor. If I'd wanted him dead, he would have been dead. I was just toying with him. A little bit of payback for all the bruises and welts he left on Sammy. Remember counselor, you didn't see Sammy after David was done with him, but I did. Everything I did to that ass was nothing compared to the two years of hell Sammy went through under his thumb." Cal's smile returned as he went on, "And you're right. I *am* a son of a bitch and Sammy's dad would be the first to agree." To which he added silently, "Just how big a son of a bitch I am, I hope you never find out my friend."

Simon didn't have a clue of what to think. He hadn't anticipated Cal's response, and he hated to be caught off guard like that. He hated Cal with a passion for what he done, for what he was capable of doing. But, at the same time, he had to admit to some perverse pleasure at knowing David had gotten some payback for what he'd put Sammy through, and he hated himself even more for it. "So we're finished now," he growled, "right?"

"Ah, not quite, counselor, not quite. There's still that matter of the FBI to deal with," Cal reminded him.

"Gary already filled me in on that. I'll make sure that Sammy and Gary are well prepared for their interviews...once they return from their 'trip to Mexico'," Simon replied.

"Yes counselor, I'm sure that you will. But there are a few loose ends that I want to tie up here before then, that I think may be useful," Cal offered.

"Such as?" Simon inquired.

"Such as having my informant get a feel for what these two agents are thinking, how closely they're looking into and working for the Special Unit, and exactly how much of the tragic 'accident' off the coast of Baja they believe. I want to be damn sure of things before I chance the Prince anywhere near the FBI. His daddy would skin me alive if they did something stupid, like detain him...or worse," Cal commented.

"Prince?" Simon was confused.

"Daddy's the king, whether he accepts it or not, and that makes Sammy a prince and heir. I thought that you knew?" Cal queried.

"I...yes...yes, Gary said that Max was technically the King of ...Antar, is it? But for some reason it didn't dawn on me that Sammy was a prince," Simon said with increasing concern. "Isn't Antar at war? Won't Sammy be a target?"

"Perhaps, but not really, and not soon. Not unless the resistance somehow manages to get its act together and come looking for their rightful king. They of course would also be interested in his heir as well. But from what I hear, that's not looking too promising at the moment. So no worries on that front. Nope, right now we just need to concentrate on throwing off those meddlesome government interlopers so Sammy can have a nice and safe little life with his daddy and family," Cal finished.

Simon gave the alien thug a quizzical look. "You really like him, Sammy, don't you?" He asked.

Cal couldn't help the grin as he remembered how the kid had stood up in front him, brave and tall, while obviously shaking in his shoes, and let loose with all his might, defending his friend, Gary. He hadn't said anything at the time, but the kid packed a pretty good wallop that had stung like hell for hours. "Why? Don't you?" Cal threw back at him with an infectious grin.

Simon was dumbstruck, which was just as well. Cal was a good liar, but he liked this lawyer too much to let him even begin to guess that his grin had little to do with what they were talking about. "Six months at the outside," he thought. "That's all the longer we can count on 'Uncle' David to keep his mouth shut. Once he goes through the money, he'll be back. The moron will convince himself that he'd been taken by surprise, and that things would be different 'this time'." Cal turned the matter over in his mind, then discarded it. He'd have one of his agents wait a month, then arrange for something lethally pure to be slipped into David's next drug buy. Scratch one child abusing deadbeat. End of problem.

Cal's grin never faltered. "Don't you?" he repeated.

~

Part 15

Philip smiled warmly at the scene before him. His wife, son and daughter, grandson, and even a heavily pregnant daughter-in-law, were all lazing around on a Friday night watching a DVD and eating popcorn. Gary had decided this morning that he was tired of the sofa bed and was going to opt for a motel room. And Max had decided that the bar could survive one Friday night without him. Philip chuckled silently as Liz threw popcorn at Sammy, who was sitting on the floor, and then accused Max of doing it. Liz had been adamant about coming downstairs to join everyone. He couldn't blame her, hell, none of them could. But Max wasn't about to let her walk down those stairs. After a rather heated discussion, Max finally gave up and carried her down the stairs, much to Liz's chagrin. They were all doing their best to make this a memorable family night as they waited for word from New York. Cal was supposed to call once everything had been set up. "What's taking so long?" he wondered, as the clock on the wall read a quarter past nine.

Diane chuckled as more popcorn made its way down the back of Sammy's shirt. "Well kids, I think I need to get another bag of popcorn," she proclaimed as she rose to fulfill the task. While she was waiting for the numbers to tick down on the microwave the phone rang. "Hello, oh, oh, yes, um, let me get him for you," she said, and laid the phone down on the counter. "Max, Max, it's Cal," she announced. While her son quickly came over to get the phone, she noted that he waited until the popcorn was done and she'd left the kitchen, before speaking. When she returned to the living room, the tv was muted, as Han Solo was finally freed from the carbonite, because all eyes were glued to the drama in the kitchen instead.

"Cal," Max said without preamble.

"Max, things worked out very well. 'Uncle' David took the money and ran, after signing all the required documents of course," Cal informed him.

"So he was no problem?" Max asked incredulously. "Did you leave him in one piece?" he inquired as he glanced into the now quiet living room.

"Mmm, more or less...for now," Cal replied. "I must say that the shape that the apartment was in was down right criminal! If I'd known that it was going to take so much work and cash to make it livable, I would never have agreed to be responsible for all of the cleanup and redecorating. Not to mention all the stuff he has in hock with various pawnbrokers. It's going to cost me a fortune!" he lamented. "That Simon Shapiro is a wily shark. I'd love to entice him into working for me. Ah, but I think that's unlikely since he considers me to be a son of a bitch," he said with more than a touch of admiration, and no small amount of pride.

Max snorted, "I'd say that he's a good judge of character as well." He gave the group in the living room a broad smile and a nod to let them know that things had gone well in New York, then he walked over to the other side of the kitchen, away from the inquiring eyes and listening ears. "Will David keep quiet about...things?" Max inquired quietly.

Cal pursed his lips. "I'm not sure. He will for a while. I'd say that we're good until he's snorts a mils worth of powder up his nose or shoots it into his veins. I know the type. Once the cash is gone, he'll be snooping around for more...any way that he can get it," Cal explained with distaste. He'd never understood the attraction of drugs that held for some people. Drugs ultimately ruined your life, and his goal was to enjoy life. Why ruin it? No, he didn't understand it at all, nor did he care to. "Don't worry. I'll keep an eye on things and handle it for you...when it comes up."

Max was silent for a moment, because he knew exactly what Cal was implying. He also knew what Cal was capable of, that's why he'd sent him. Max closed his eyes for a moment as the memory of that first meeting with Cal, after they'd gone on the run, replayed itself. It had been just a little over a year since they'd left Roswell, when they had to run a roadblock, only to find themselves being boxed in by the Special Unit with no way out. They had already taken out a couple of agents and taken an injured one as prisoner. Suddenly, there was Cal. He never explained how he'd known that they needed him or where he'd come from, he just appeared. And God was he pissed. He'd gotten them to a more secure and defensible position in an old abandoned farmhouse, he'd taken the prisoner, along Michael and him, into the basement and sealed the door shut. He didn't say a word to him or Michael. Cal just went over to the prisoner and calmly explained that he was going to tell them everything he knew about the Special Unit, one way or another. The injured agent hadn't wanted to cooperate...at first. When the agent had screamed, Max had tried to order Cal to stop, but he couldn't. Cal had done something and Max couldn't open his mouth. His vocal chords wouldn't work, so he couldn't get the words out to order Cal to stop. Both he and Michael had tried to physically stop Cal, only to be thrown time and time again against the basement wall. Their powers were still developing and, as a result, Cal had no problem taking them both down. After what seemed like an eternity of screams, the agent started talking between sobs and moans. Max and Michael took shaky, but scrupulous, notes. Then Cal had silenced the screams forever. When it was over both he and Michael had felt sick...and furious...but that was nothing compared to Cal's fury. He'd ripped them both new ones. "You fools! You morons! What the hell did you take a prisoner for anyway? Unless you're willing to question them, prisoners are of no use! It's kill or be killed. I don't need to remind you of what will happen if any of you get caught. Do you want to watch while they test and experiment on Liz or Maria? Do you want to listen to the same sort of screams as they question them? Or dissect them? Don't ever f*cking do this again unless you are willing, and have the stomachs, to make use of it!" Cal had raged at them. Max shuddered deeply then shook his head to clear the memory. No, he could never take the chance that one of them could get thrown back into the white room. He *did* know what Cal was capable of, and what he, Max, was not. "I'll leave it to you then," was his last comment on the subject.

"Understood," Cal acknowledged. "I've made arrangements for my private plane to pick the boy and Gary up in Spokane on Sunday at noon. It's going to be a long trip. They're going via Mexico. Make sure that you fix their passports with the correct stamp and date on it. They actually will be touching down in Mexico and picking up Lucinda and Manuel Vega. I promised them a trip to the Big Apple a while ago. Now seems like a good time to deliver on it. They can go over the details of Sammy and Gary's visit with them on the plane. Just to make sure that their stories are believable. Don't worry, they're good people. We've been helping each other out for years," he reassured his king before continuing. "I've set up the meeting with the FBI for Tuesday morning. I figured the sooner that we get it done, the sooner that you can get the boy back."

Max stared out at nothing as the words burned into his brain. He son was going to be walking into the hands of the FBI, the agency that had been hunting him and his loved ones for years. His hands suddenly felt clammy. "So detail it out. How's this meeting going to go down?"

Cal could hear the tension in the voice on the other end of the phone. "I have someone on the inside. They'll be in the room watching. They'll signal me if things start to go bad and it looks like they're going to hold onto the kid. I'll be in the building waiting. I've arranged to be taking a tour of the more non-secure areas for research on a movie project. If things go bad, I'll get him out and get him to safety. Norman has instructions to call you if that happens."

Max swallowed a couple of times, trying to push down the bile that was rising. "What about Gary and Simon? Are you going to spring them too?"

"The heir is my primary concern. Gary and Simon should be okay. The most the Feds will do is make things unpleasant for them for a while, but they're human. All they can really do is give them your locale." He paused for a moment the went on, "You do realize that, don't you? If this goes sour in a big way, you're on the run again...unless you want me to cover those tracks as well?" Cal asked cautiously. He knew that Max had never liked taking people out, not even the enemy.

"No, never. Do whatever you have to do to keep Sammy safe. And do what you can for Gary and Simon. Are you sure about this? I mean Gary does know who I really am, and he knows about Antar. Are you sure that they won't try and keep them?" He asked uncertainly.

Cal thought it over for a moment before replying. "No, I'm pretty certain that they'll be okay. You know there's been a time or two in the past when a civilian got caught up in this, and wound up spending a little time with the Feds, but only for a couple of days. And they weren't harmed. There'd be no point to it. They were human and don't know anything. It's the same thing with Gary and Simon, other than having a bit more background on you, the most damage that they can do is give up your location, by which time you will all be long gone," he reasoned.

Max nodded in agreement. He knew that what Cal said was true. As far as any of them knew, the FBI hadn't harmed human that they had come in contact with, just questioned them, and a few times they'd run medical checks, then released them. "Okay, fine. We'll leave it at that. So Tuesday morning....then what?"

Cal looked around his new apartment, at the painters who were already hard at work. The floor refinisher was due any minute. "Damn these union wages!" he growled silently. "I thought Sammy might want to see the old place. Other than that, it's up to him." He walked out on the patio to light his cigar. "I got tickets to the Met on Wednesday. You think Sammy'd want to go?" he asked as casually as possible.

Max's jaw dropped as he stared at the phone for a moment. "Y-you want to take him to the Met?" he stammered out while trying to get his brain back on track. "O-k-a-y. You'll have to ask him when you see him." His mind was reeling. Cal actually LIKED Sammy? How the hell did that happen? "So, after the Met..." he paused as his mind was still trying to process that one, "so after that, nothing's stopping him from coming back here? We're free and clear...right?" He knew the answer, but wanted to hear it anyways.

"Pretty much so. We might want to wait a day or two, just to make sure that everything is square on this end....then back home he goes. Of course you'll need to work out the final details of that with Simon. And like I said, he's a sharp one. But yeah, then you can go play like the Waltons, your majesty," he added with just enough sarcasm. He didn't want Max to get the wrong idea about things.

Max smirked at that. "Right. So Sunday then."

"Sunday," Cal confirmed. "Oh, how are the kid's powers coming along? Did he get any practice in?"

"No," Max scowled. "I guess we should correct that tomorrow. He...he might need to know what he can do...soon," Max said with a sigh. He hated the idea that Sammy might have need of his powers to protect himself anytime soon, just hated it. "Okay Cal, he'll be at the Spokane airport on Sunday at noon. Anything else?"

Cal heard the sigh and sadness behind it. "Not unless your mom and dad want to tag along back to Roswell. It should be safe enough for them to return. It'd be no problem for the plane to make a quick stop there," he offered. It might be easier on the kid if Grandma and Grandpa were there for at least part of the trip, he reasoned.

"Cal, that's..." Max wasn't sure what to think. "I... I'll ask them, so, Sunday then." He paused. "And thanks Cal. Bye." Max pushed the disconnect button. A mean Cal he knew. An angry Cal he knew. An arrogant, brutal taskmaster Cal he knew, but a nice one? That would take some getting used to. He quickly punched the speed dial for the Guerin house across the street to make arrangements with Michael for a practice session the next day.

Philip watched as his son returned with what appeared to be a forced smile. "So, how'd it go?" he asked almost hesitantly.

Max swallowed. "Good, good," he paused and forced himself to relax as he looked at Sammy, still sitting on the floor in front of Liz. He saw so many emotions reflected in his son's eyes. Fear, sorrow, worry, hope, confusion, they were all there. People said that Sammy had his eyes. "I wonder what he sees in mine?" he pondered for a moment. "Sammy, David has agreed to sign over custody to Simon like we talked about," he said tentatively, then waited for Sammy's response. He felt his heart lurch as Sammy just nodded and looked down. "Sammy, look at me. Sammy..." He waited to until Sammy complied, then continued, "Sammy, we talked about this. I know that at some level it hurts to think that David took the money, but it is for the best. Besides, it helps clear the way for you to come back here for good. That is still what you want, isn't it?" he asked with a twinge of uncertainty in his voice.

"Yeah," Sammy quietly responded, then ducked his head shyly and looked down at his lap.

Diane watched as Liz pushed the bangs back that fell into Sammy's eyes. It was something that she had done countless times to Max, mother and son. Watching Liz do it for Sammy was so endearing and sweet that it made her breath catch. She took a deep breath and straightened herself, vowing not to get sentimental. She cleared her throat. "So when do they leave for New York? Did Cal say?" she asked.

"Sunday at noon. Cal is sending his private plane to pick Sammy and Gary up in Spokane. It's going to be a long flight, though. They're going to Mexico first to pick up that couple that are covering for us, Manuel and Lucinda Vega." He looked at Sammy, then at Gary. "That way you two can get your stories straight in case you're asked about any particulars, then on to New York." He paused for a moment and looked at his father. "Oh, and Cal said that it wouldn't be a problem for the plane to make a stop in Roswell along the way, in case you and Mom want to go home." He tried not to sound too hopeful that they wouldn't go. It had been so long since he'd been with his parents. But he couldn't blame them if they did decide to go home. After all, they'd left in such a hurry with so many things undone, perhaps it would be best. "I'm sure that you have lots of things to straighten out about your sudden disappearance. And after everything's...settled, you could..."

"Nonsense!" Diane said emphatically, as she held her hand up to stop him from rattling on. "I made Liz's doctor a promise, and I intend to keep it. I'm here until that second grandchild of mine is born and then I'm hanging on a bit longer just to make absolutely certain that this baby is properly spoiled...along with his or her older brother of course," she reminded them all.

"Well, I hate to say it, but it might not be such a bad idea for me to go back. I've probably got some pretty pissed off clients that I left in a lurch, and I should check on the house. There will also be some legal and financial matters that need to be attended to if we plan on resuming our lives in Roswell. Maybe I should go back for a few days...actually it might be a week or so to get things sorted out," Philip thought out loud. He looked over at his grandson sitting on the floor in front of Max and Liz. He could tell that things still weren't sitting to well with the boy. "Besides," he continued, "it'll give me a chance to spend a little quality time with my grandson, and tell him all about his dad. Like the time I took Max fishing and he fell overboard, or about that little redhead, what was her name? Anyway, Max was about 9 or maybe 10 and she decided that..."

"DAD!" Max shouted in horror.

"No, wait. I wanna hear this one. Go on, the little redhead decided what?" Liz asked in all sincerity.

~

Gary frowned at the phone. He was stretched out on the bed, the tv on but muted, with Chinese takeout sitting next to him. He was straining to understand the slurred words coming over the phone. "You're drunk, Simon," he finally managed to get out in between the ranting in his ear.

"NO F*CKING SHIT?!" Simon yelled into the phone, then took another swig of beer. After taking a taxi home from Cal's suite at the Waldorf, he had spent the evening chasing away the memories of what he had witnessed that afternoon...the memories that kept replaying in his head, with a six-pack of German beer. It had been a long evening when he finally remembered that he was supposed to call Gary. "Do you have any idea what they can do?!"

"Um, yeah," Gary calmly pointed out.

"Huh? How? Oh...yeah. Hey, that's right, you got f*cking wasted too!" Simon suddenly recalled.

"Yeah, they do seem to have that effect on us, huh?" he thought with some perverse amusement. He still didn't have a totally clear picture of what Cal had done to David, something about dangling him out a window? But at least it sounded like Cal had given David a little pay back for what he had done to Sammy. "So what's the plan?" he asked.

"I'm gonna finish my beer!" Simon drunkenly informed him.

Gary had to laugh. Simon seldom tied one on, and even then rarely was he this ripped. Man, that was one killer hangover just waiting for him in the morning. "Okay, then what? He say anything about when we should head back?" Gary listened very carefully and made a few notes on the hotel-supplied pad of paper. He'd check with Max in the morning, but it sounded like they were heading home, finally.

~

Max had to shake him a little to wake him. "Come on sleepy head. Time to get up."

Sammy squinted as the table lamp was switched on. "Huh?"

"Practice this morning. We need to get an early start." He pointed over to the rocking chair. "There's a flannel shirt and heavy jacket that you can borrow. It's cold out, especially in the woods, where we're going," Max reminded him.

"Oh yeah. How come we gotta go all the way out in the woods to practice anyhow? Why not just use the basement or something?" Sammy asked while rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Because I want it to be just you and I for a little while," he thought, but replied with, "There's more room to blow things up without being seen....and no harm if the wrong thing gets blown up." Max smiled as a memory surfaced. "Because, if you're anything like what Chase and Ryan were like when they started getting a feel for their powers, you'll need lots of room," he told him with a slight chuckle. "Come on, lets get moving. I'll meet you downstairs in 15 minutes," he said as he walked out the bedroom door.

Sammy turned and looked at his watch, 6:35AM. He lay his head back down on the pillow with a thump and groaned, "It's too damn early!"

Max was just loading a small cooler into the back of his Jeep when Sammy appeared. "You all ready?" he called out to him.

"Yeah, I guess. What about breakfast?" Sammy asked as he stomach protested being awakened so early with nothing to put in it.

"We'll stop for coffee and donuts on the way," Max reassured him as they climbed into the car. He turned the ignition over and heard a decided groan of protest followed by a steady knock, coming from underneath the hood. "Shit! Not now!" he exclaimed. Shutting off the engine he popped the hood and started to climb out.

"Sammy, scoot over and start the engine when I tell you to," He instructed.

Sammy did as he was told, but wasn't exactly sure of how to do this, after all, he'd been driven his whole life. He heard his dad say, "Okay, start it", but nothing happened when he tried to turn the ignition. He tried it again.

Max waited for the engine to start, and waited, and waited, until finally he walked around and stuck his head into the open driver's side window. He pointed down to the foot pedals. "The clutch, Sammy. You have to put in the clutch or it won't start," he said with a slight smile.

"Oh," Sammy blushed as he stepped on the clutch then started the Jeep.

Max once again heard the loud knocking announcing the engine's protest. "I guess there's not a lot of places for a kid to go joy riding in New York without getting caught. Man, when I was your age, I was all over the desert in an old army surplus jeep that Dad and I were fixing up. Don't worry. When you come back, we'll see about getting you something to knock around the back roads in. Now let's see if we can't get this fixed up enough to drive." Max went back underneath the hood to listen for a minute, and then looked around to make certain no one was watching. Then with a wave of a glowing hand, the engine was soothed to almost a purr, but still with a decidedly rhythmic thump. Max chewed the inside of his cheek, then sighed in resignation. Sammy scooted back over as Max climbed back in the driver's seat and pulled out his cell.

"The engine doesn't sound right," Sammy observed.

Max looked over at his son while the cell rang. "No, it doesn't." He heard, "Expert Car Repair, can I help you?", in
his ear. "Hey Kyle. It's me. Got time to take a look at my Jeep?"

Kyle took a sip of coffee. "Okay. Bring it on in. I'll make room for ya."

"Thanks...uh, you got some wheels I that I can borrow? I don't want to leave Liz and my family without a car," Max explained as he carefully put the Jeep into reverse and pulled out of the driveway, the engine thumping right along.

Kyle glanced over at his baby, covered with the protective tarp, that he'd been so carefully restoring, his eyes then traveled over to the old tried and true workhorse sitting outside. "Yeah, I got some wheels for ya. See ya in few." Ten minutes later the sound of a sick engine announced their arrival. Kyle casually finished his coffee and egg McMuffin as Max and his son climbed out of the Jeep. "So, she's not responding to your magic touch any longer, eh?"

"Nope. Think you can get it fixed today?" he asked as his eyes drifted over to the beauty sitting under the tarp in the last work bay.

"Probably. Sounds like you got a collapsed lifter. How many times did you whammy it before bringing it in?" Kyle asked.

"Whammy it?" Sammy inquired.
"Powers. Your dad's been using his powers on this puppy for a while. Its needed new lifters for some time, but with a wave of a hand he can get anything broken back together, as long as some part hasn't completely disintegrated. Looks like this last time he was too late. You sure you want to sink the money into it? I thought that you were talking about getting a new Jeep before the baby's born?" Kyle reminded him.

Max's eyes shifted to Sammy for a second then back to Kyle. "Not for a while longer, I'm afraid. See what you can do without breaking the bank. So..uh, we're heading out to get some practice in and need to get going. What..uh..." Max was cut off as Kyle held up a pair of very familiar looking keys attached to a little alien key chain. Max quickly scanned the area and found it, a rust heap. "You have got be joking," Max told him.

"Nope. She ain't pretty, hell, she never was, but old Betsy is running like a champ." Kyle said with a delighted grin.

Sammy was looking where his dad was, at the old rusted van. "Old Betsy?" he asked.

"Yep, home sweet home for damn near ten years. Don't let her looks fool ya kid. She's got a hell of a heart to her. She'll get ya where ya need to go. Practice, eh? How long are you going to be up there?" Kyle wondered.

"Michael is going to join us around ten. We'll probably be there until around two or so, why?" Max asked him as he reluctantly took the keys to Betsy.

"Been a while, I could probably use a little practice myself. Tell ya what, I'll get your Jeep fixed and drive it out there. Probably around noon or so," Kyle advised.

Sammy climbed into the passenger seat of old Betsy and looked around. It didn't look any better on the inside than it did on the outside. There was a toolbox and fishing tackle in the back, next to the cooler and the bag that Dad had brought. The seat covers hid the tears and rips in the upholstery. The carpet looked like it was some remnant that had been glued down. But it started right up. "Dad, did you really live in this for 10 years?" Sammy asked incredulously as they motored on down the road.

Max couldn't help but crack a grin at Sammy's tone. Kyle had been right, old Betsy had a lot of heart. "Yeah. We'd stay at different places from time to time, but this was what got us from place to place, this was home. Chase was even born in it," he recalled with a chuckle. "Oh the things you missed out on!" He glanced over at Sammy's look of horror and laughed even harder.

They pulled onto a private road with no trespassing and no hunting signs, and kept going. Eventually they came to a clearing surrounded by thick woods. There was a small ramshackle cottage, a shack really, with an equally dilapidated looking picnic table out front, and nothing else. "Who owns this Dad?" Sammy asked as they got out of the van.

"Technically Cal does through several layers of holding companies. He was thinking of putting a lodge up here someday. But for now, we use it when we need to work on things away from prying eyes. Come on, let's get set up," he said as he pulled various cans and bottles out of the sack he'd brought.

It had been hours as Sammy once again held out his hand and tried as hard as he could to knock over the bottles sitting on the large log. Nothing. Not even the hint of a glow. He dropped his hand in defeat. "It's no use. I can't do it," he said dejectedly as he stomped away.

"Sammy..." Max called after his son then paused when he heard a car engine nearing. He let out the breath he had been holding as Michael's van pulled into view. Max was surprised when Chase and Ryan climbed out along side their dad. "Hey."

"Hey," Michael replied in greeting. He looked over at where Sammy was standing and looking miserable, then back over to his best friend. "Sorry about springing the boys on ya. Megan has one of her Brownie meetings and it got switched to our house at the last minute. Figured it was better to get the boys out of there beforehand than having to hear about what a disaster it was all weekend, with them there all day long." He paused to stare at Sammy a moment longer. "So what's that all about?" he asked as he nodded towards the frowning teen.

"No problem. Sammy's not doing too well. He can't seem to get it to work on demand. We've tried everything that I can think of and still..." Max didn't finish the sentence as the kids came over.

"Hey Uncle Max, we're all ready for target practice!" Chase announced with a delighted grin.

Max returned the grin and had to chuckle. "Yep, I bet you are. I never met a Guerin yet that wasn't ready to blow something up," he remarked good-naturedly. "Come on, let's see how well you guys can do at different distances," he suggested.

Watching an eight and nine year old do what he couldn't for over an hour, didn't help Sammy's ever-deflating self-esteem. "They make it look so easy," he grumbled to himself, as Ryan knocked the can off from almost fifty feet away. His dad had tried to come over and talk to him, to reassure him, but Sammy had just walked away. He didn't want to hear it.

Michael glanced over to where Sammy was standing by himself, and then back to his boys, casually blowing the hell out of all the targets. He walked over to his distressed best friend and said, "Sorry man. I didn't think about it when the boys asked to come. They're not helping any, are they?"

"No," Max admitted. "It's okay Michael. Maybe Sammy just can't do it unless he's threatened, you know, fight or flight instinct. We needed to know what he could...or couldn't do. I guess we know now," he said a little sadly. Max turned as he heard another car was coming, a very familiar car. He watched as his Jeep parked behind Michael's van. "Hey Kyle," he called out.

"I got food!" Kyle announced loudly as he held up McDonald's bags. He was instantly swarmed over by two hungry little faces reaching for the greasy fast-food that he knew Maria would hate to see them have. He grinned big time as he walked over and deposited the food and drinks on an ancient picnic table. As the Guerin boys tore into the bags and sucked down sodas, Kyle looked around for the missing teen. He watched as Sammy walked around with hands in pocket, looking at the ground. "That doesn't look good," he commented to the boy's dad.

"No. It seems his powers are limited to only when he's close to panic," Max explained. "He can't make them work on command."

"You sure?" Kyle asked as he continued to watch the kid.

"No, but he hasn't been able to get them work at all today. The only times he had to in the past were to defend himself against David, when he zapped Cal to defend Gary, and last time to stop Burns with his shield. In every instance there was an extreme emotional or even physical threat," Max elaborated.

"Yeah, emotions can play into our powers. Give me a minute," Kyle said as he headed towards the boy. "Hey, your burger's getting cold," he called out as he neared Sammy.

"I'm not hungry," Sammy said without looking up.

"Yeah, I guess hiding out over here doesn't work up much of an appetite. Not like those little kids, who are starving after blowing everything up. Too bad you can't do it, but I guess you'll just have to go hide behind them. Let them do your fighting. Hell, even Megan can blast just as good as her brothers. So don't worry...there're plenty of people around to protect you." Kyle kept the delight off of his face as he saw the anger building in the boy. "And you'll have your baby sister to protect you too, so don't worry. There'll be plenty of people around that you can hide behind," he added just to goad him a little more.

Sammy had never felt so angry in his life. He barely knew 'Uncle' Kyle and here he was saying all this crap. Saying he was a coward. After everything he'd been through, he was not a coward, and he wasn't going to hide behind anyone! "I'll show him!" he thought in fury, as he raised his hand and took aim at the log where all the targets were sitting.

Max was watching Kyle and his son from a distance, and he didn't like the body language that he was seeing in his son. Suddenly, without warning, a bolt of energy streaked through the air and nailed not only the targets, but the log they were sitting on as well. Instinctively Max threw up his shield to protect them from flying bits of glass, metal, wood, and dirt. After a few minutes he finally lowered his shield and stared, along with the rest of them, at the hole in the ground that had replaced their practice targets.

Kyle walked over with Sammy to see the results of his endeavors. After looking at the hole for a few minutes, he quipped, "Remind me not to piss your kid off again, Evans." He then went to eat his lunch.

Sammy didn't know what to say. Everyone was just staring at what he'd done. He nervously looked over at his dad. "I...I'm sorry. I didn't...I..." He was at a loss for words to explain.

Max finally tore his eyes away from the hole and looked at his son. Then he broke into a huge grin. "He pissed you off, didn't he? Yeah, Kyle could always push my buttons too," he admitted as he gave his son a pat on the back. "Okay, I think we've established that your powers react to strong emotions. Now we just have to work on controlling those emotions so you can call upon and control your powers at will. Come on, let's get some lunch," he said as he directed his son towards the picnic table.

"Cool blast! Can you do it again?" Ryan wanted to know as soon as Sammy sat down.

"Hey, what about your shield? Dad said you could do a shield like Uncle Max's. Can you show us?" Chase excitedly asked.

"Well, I...." Sammy started to say.

"What about levitating? I bet you could send stuff into orbit. Can you do that?" Chase continued in his excitement.

"I...I don't know about..." Sammy again tried to explain.

"What about..." Chase's curiosity was finally cut short by his dad.

"Chase, let him eat. We'll work some more this afternoon to see how well you all are doing. Now enjoy your lunch, cuz I think that your mom mentioned something about having a meatless meat loaf for dinner," Michael remarked with a shudder.

"Meatless meat loaf?" Max inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"I'd rather not know, Maxwell," Michael replied in all honesty as he took another bite of his Big Mac.

An hour later Sammy was finally starting to make progress. They had figured out that he had to dig deep into his psyche and dredge up strong emotions, usually fear or anger, to basically psych himself into a panic or fury before his powers would manifest themselves. Then he had to figure out how to control his powers once they surfaced. Luckily his dad had some pretty good ideas about how to control them, it mainly had to do with needing to control his emotions at that point. The two went hand in hand, but it was exhausting work. By the time it was after three in the afternoon, he had stacked fallen logs one on top of each other, and worked on blowing up just the middle of three targets without touching the ones on either side. He still needed to work on that last one, and his dad worked with him on how to strengthen and expand his shield. When they finally called it a day, Sammy fell asleep before his dad even got in the Jeep to head home. Max watched his son sleep for a moment while they finished cleaning up, unstacking the logs, smoothing out the blast holes in the earth, and picking up burger wrappers and soda cups. As Kyle came up next him he spoke, "Kyle? " he said as he nodded towards his son.

Kyle looked in the direction of Max's Jeep and smiled as he fished something out of his jacket pocket. "Hey, no problem. Here's the bill." Kyle handed Max the bill as he intentionally made it look like he misunderstood what Max was driving at.

"Huh?" Max asked as he opened up the job invoice. "$364?Kyle...thanks," was all Max could think of to say.

"Yeah, I gave it to you at cost. Parts plus what I actually pay the mechanic. I figured with the new baby, and a new teen and all, finances might be a little stretched. You can drop off a check later on, or stop by and I'll run your credit card through," he said, keeping up the pretense. "Now, I need to put Betsy to bed while I get more appropriate wheels for a date with that little blond that works at the hardware store."

Michael watched Kyle pull out with Betsy purring right along. His own kids were just as wiped out as Sammy and were snoozing away in the van. "Did he say the blond at the hardware store?"

"Yeah, why?" Max asked

Michael shrugged. "No reason really, it's just that I saw her with a guy in the restaurant the other night. From the looks of the guy, he was some sort of weight lifter," he commented. "And a serious one at that."

Max just shook his head as he stared after Kyle. Some things just never changed.

~

Part 16

Maria stood watching from the window in the living room as their van pulled into the driveway. She'd had reservations about the boys going along today, but they had kept insisting. So, rather than listen to their complaints at being left out, she'd let them go. On top of that...and she hated to admit it, she honestly hadn't felt like the dealing with the disaster they would have made of the Brownie meeting. All those "yucky" girls as the boys put it, in one place, at one time, would've been too much of a temptation. However she had an inkling that today was going to be pretty hard on all of them at the practice field. Max would be testing Sammy, trying to get a measure of his abilities. Trying to see how well he could defend himself against the FBI, just in case. And with the boys there, they'd be testing them as well, probably to use them as a gauge against which to measure Sammy's powers. She saw her husband get out of their van, then open the side door, and lift out a soundly sleeping Ryan. She opened the front door as he carried him in his arms into the house and right on upstairs to bed, before returning for a second trip....this time with Chase in his arms. She followed him back upstairs to tuck them in then trailed her husband downstairs to the living room. "How'd they do?" She asked with a twinge of worry.

"Fine. They did fine. Ryan's really improved his control. He only blasted the shack once. And Chase is getting stronger." Michael said distractedly as he watched Max pull into the driveway across the street. Maria joined him as Max helped an obviously wiped out Sammy out of the car and half carried him into the house. "He had some problems getting started, but he's got a hell of a punch when he's riled up."

"Who riled him?" Maria asked as she observed father and son across the street. She wondered how many times Max and Liz had looked out their own window and watched as they'd carried or helped their kids into the house? How could it have felt to watch with empty beds upstairs? She shook her head to dispel such painful thoughts. "So, who was it?"

"Kyle." He answered. "It seems that Sammy's powers are triggered by strong emotions and it took Sammy getting angry before they surfaced. Sammy's a lot like Max so..."

"So Kyle was perfect for the job," Maria finished with a nod. "So how'd it go after that?" she asked.

"Pretty good actually. Max worked a lot with Sammy on control. The better he can control his emotions, the better he controls his powers once they surface. But it's exhausting work, and the kids are worn out," he explained.

"Mmm, yes. So I could tell. Now if you'd taken Megan and Alex, we'd have four wiped out kids, and the house to ourselves tonight," she said wistfully.

That finally turned Michael's attention back to his own house. "Alex usually crashes about seven, right? Couldn't we put Megan to bed then?" he suggested as several interesting ideas started playing out in his mind.

"Oh, we can try. You know as well as I do, the problem isn't putting her to bed. It's keeping her there, especially that early on a Saturday night," she informed him. "You know, she was pretty pissed when she found out that you took Chase and Ryan out for target practice, and not her. I think she said something about it being a 'typical chauvinistic' attitude towards women."

"What?" Michael said dumbfounded, then made a mental note to not let Megan hang around Auntie Isabel so much. "She had that...that Brownie thing! I would've taken her!" he explained defensively.

"Hmm, well, she doesn't have it now. I believe she's in the garage working on, as she put it 'showing them'? She mentioned something about your toolbox and practicing changing molecular structures," she said casually. She didn't hear his response. He was already out the door to the garage. She smiled when she heard "NOOOO! I just got that!" coming from the garage's direction. Life was never boring in the Guerin house, that was for sure.

~

Max had to help Sammy into the house. And once he had him inside, since he was almost asleep on his feet, he took him right up to bed. Once they were in Sammy's room, father helped son off with his jacket and shirt, then slipped his muddy sneakers and jeans off. He was just tucking him in when Diane walked in and softly voiced her growing concern. "Max, is he all right? Why's he so tired? I don't recall you kids ever being like this."

Max gave Sammy a kiss on the temple before drawing the curtains closed and quietly slipping out of the room with his mother. "It's because he worked his powers so hard. He's not used to using them yet and they can draw a great deal of energy. When you first start really working them, you're using a lot of excess energy until you figure out how to conserve it," he explained. "Sammy's just starting out, but Iz and I always had some powers so we instinctively knew a few things. But even we had a training period after going on the run and making a conscious effort to develop them. No more than two of us at a time could really work them then. It was too dangerous to have all of us wiped out like that. He'll be fine, Mom." he reassured her.

~

Dinner that night was rather quiet affair, with Sammy still sacked out upstairs in bed, and Liz banished to her bedroom as well. Isabel watched her brother scoot pieces of his pork chop around his plate, but they never got closer to his mouth. He was the picture of abject misery and worry, and tomorrow he was only going to be worse. She wasn't sure if she wanted to be anywhere near him come Tuesday morning. Desperate to break the loud silence, she decided to plunge on in and ask her dad a few things that she'd been putting off knowing about. "Dad, do you know how Jesse is? Is he happy in Boston? Did...did he get on with his life?" she asked and held her breath, partially afraid that the answer was "yes", and even more afraid somehow of it being "no".

Philip heard the hesitancy in his daughter's voice. He recalled that he and Diane hadn't overly approved of their marriage, mainly because of Isabel's age, and because it came so soon after Alex's death, but he had to admit that Jesse appeared to have really loved Isabel. And from the tone of her voice, the feeling was still mutual. "He's doing fine. He's still with the law firm that he joined when he moved out East. He made junior partner last year. As for the other...well, we did see him a few years ago, when we were passing through Boston on vacation. He seemed... well enough," he said kindly.

Isabel stared down at her plate. "Do...did he ever file...divorce papers?" she finally choked out. It was hard not knowing if she was even technically still married or not. Max had offered to have Cal find out once, but at the time she wasn't ready to face it. Now, now they were so close to actually being able to having a real life. Now there was the tiniest ray of hope shining through. She knew that it wasn't fair to Jesse, to wish him 15 years of loneliness. She knew that feeling all too well. It wasn't something that she'd wish on anyone, especially her husband...or was he her ex-husband? It was time for her to finally face the truth.

"No, when we talked to him some years ago, he said that he hadn't, and wouldn't. He could have filed citing abandonment years ago, but he never did. I..." Philip paused as he thought about how to break it her, "I know that he did have a special girl at one time, but...he said he that just couldn't make the commitment," he explained as gently as possible.

Isabel was stunned. She had hoped, but not really believed that he would wait for her, especially not after all these years. She hadn't asked him to, nor ever really expected him to. Was it possible that they could reunite? Could they pick up the pieces and start over? Did she want to? Did he want to? Did they still love each other? "Oh God! What are we going to do?" she exclaimed as the tears finally broke.

Diane went to her daughter immediately and wrapped her arms around her. Jesse had called them every so often, just to keep in touch. And she and Philip had admired Jesse's devotion to their daughter, but after so much time passed, even they had eventually encouraged him to try and find some happiness with someone else. It took him some years, but he finally did. However it had only lasted for a short while. Diane ran her hand up and down her daughter's back, comforting her as she had done when her children were little. After a few minutes she stopped and forced her daughter to look at her. "When it's finally safe, you're going to contact Jesse and talk to him. Isabel, I know that he loves you, and that you love him, but you don't know each other any more. You didn't really know each other all that well even way back then, but you need to start somewhere," she told her daughter firmly.

With added resolve Diane then turned to her son. "It's about time we put this family back together, one way or another. It's just been too long," she told all of them at the table, as she patted her son's shoulder. He gave her a weak smile in return.

~

Max lay on his back watching the LED numbers change. The time read 4:37am as it glared at him in red. Sleep had eluded him tonight, just as he knew it would. Today his son would get on a plane and head to New York. Today may be the last time he would ever get to see his son again. Today his son would head into possible danger. Today is too soon. He just got him back. After fifteen years, he just got him back and now...now he could loose him all over again. But this time it was worse. This time he wasn't sending him away to safety. He'll be sending him into danger. He'll be sending him to the enemy, to the ones that had tried to kill them all on numerous occasions, or worse, take them alive. How can he do this? What kind of father is he? What kind of man is he?

"STOP! You hear me, Max? Stop this right now!" Liz had gotten very little rest herself. Like Max, she was worried about Sammy, but right now she was more worried about her husband. When he finally turned to face her, she told him, "Max, I can see it. It's written across your face, and in your eyes. Sammy is going to be fine."

"You don't know that," he quickly reminded her.

"No, I don't. But I do know Cal. And I do know that he's pulled us out of tight spots in the past, all of us, including a few times with Chase and Ryan in tow. Cal isn't going to let them haul Sammy away. He's not Nasedo. He's not going to let Sammy wind up in the white room. I know that you don't really like Cal, but I also know that you trust him with your life...more than your life, with your son's life," she stated as her hand reached up to run along one of the worry lines that had appeared on her husband's face in the last few years, adding character to the youthful face of the boy who had stolen her heart and captured her soul so long ago. "And I know something else. He's your son. He's strong and smart. He can do this. I know he can because I know you could, even as a boy," she reassured him as her fingers found and played with a few gray hairs at his temple.

Max closed his eyes for a moment, wanting to believe so badly. "But he shouldn't have to do it...any of it. He wasn't ever supposed to be involved in any of this. He didn't ask for any of this," he lamented.

"Neither did you, Max." She said.

"He was supposed to be normal, and have a normal life. That's all that I wanted for him, to have what I never could, what I dreamed about...to be normal." he admitted to his wife of fifteen years in the darkness of the pre-dawn morning.

Her thumb gently wiped away the few tears that had slipped down her husband's face. "What's so great about normal? Remember when you said that?" she asked with a small smile, one that he tried to return in kind, but couldn't quite manage. "If you had been normal then none of this would have happened. And I wouldn't be here. I'd be in the Roswell Cemetery, killed at the age of 16 by a gunshot wound in my father's restaurant." His eyes flew open at that and she felt the slight shudder go through him as she made him face the truth. "No Max, your life and the lives of those people that surround you will never be exactly what people call normal, but then normal is what you make it anyhow. What happens, happens, and we'll deal with it as it comes. Just like we always have. Just like what everyone else on the planet does. We'll make our own normal, wherever, and however that happens to be," she told him as his eyes locked onto hers. She saw pain and fear reflected in those eyes. She knew that no matter what anyone said or did, that pain wouldn't go away until Sammy returned to them safely. Her other hand went to cup his cheek and drew him close for a deep nourishing kiss. They held each other and watched the sun rise through their bedroom window until the LED read 6:00am. Today had arrived.

~

Sammy found his father in the kitchen making chocolate chip pancakes. "Mornin', Dad," he greeted him, as he shoved his hands in his pockets. He stood uncomfortably, not sure what to say.

Max spun around for a second, spatula still in hand, at the sound of his son's voice. "Mornin'," he replied, then not knowing what else to say, turned back around to flip the pancakes.

Sammy looked around the kitchen for a moment. "Do... you want me to get the juice out, or set the table...or something?" he asked as he spotted the empty table.

"Oh...oh, yeah, that'd be good. Do you know where...?" he stopped the question as Sammy opened the correct cupboard for the plates and pulled out the right drawer for the silverware. Max couldn't help the grin. It felt good to know that Sammy felt home enough to know where things were kept. "So, did you get enough sleep?" he asked, as he removed the pancakes that were done and poured more batter on the griddle.

"Yeah, I can't believe I slept so much," he remarked as he poured the orange juice.

"It's okay," Max confided. "As you practice more you'll learn not to use so much energy and it won't tire you out so easily. You did good yesterday, really good. When you get back..." Max had to pause for a moment. He didn't want Sammy to see how hard this was for him. "When you get back, we'll work some more on your powers, but maybe at a slower pace. We don't want you to be sleeping too many weekends away," he added with what he hoped was an upbeat, positive voice. Oh God, was this hard.

"Okay," Sammy said uncertainly. He took a seat as his dad brought over a plate of pancakes and set the syrup in front of him. "Do you ever think about home...Antar? What it's like?" he asked as he added a pat of butter to the stack in front of him and then drenched it liberally with syrup. He'd dreamed of what Antar might be like last night and wondered if his dad ever did as well.

Max took a seat at the table and regarded his son earnestly. "No. This is my home. Earth is the only planet I know. Philip and Diane Evans the only parents I've ever known. Antar is a planet in another galaxy and to go back would mean certain death for me. And it might mean death for anyone left behind unprotected," he explained. It was true. Earth was home, his only home. It was where Liz was.

"But I thought that you mentioned that, at one point, you were going to go back with my mom when she was pregnant with me," he said. It came out like a statement, but it was really a question.

"Yeah, I was. Tess made me believe that you couldn't survive here and that going back was the only way to save your life. I didn't know what was going to happen if I went back, but I didn't have a choice. I thought that you needed Antar...and I needed to be there to protect you from Kivar...even if it cost me my life...you're my son. We discovered what she'd done barely in time. If Tess had stayed...well, she couldn't, not after what she had done, and we still believed that you couldn't survive here. Nasedo had made a deal with Kivar, long before. Kivar wanted the heir, so she was safe...you were safe. I had to let her go. It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do...next to giving you up for adoption," he explained as carefully as possible. He smelled the pancakes and rose to go flip them.

Sammy was quiet as he ate his breakfast and thought over everything that his dad had told him. His dad had given him up to his mom because he'd thought that he couldn't survive here. Dad had again given him up for adoption because he'd wanted him to be safe and have a normal life. And now Dad had to let him go again. He watched his dad as he finished preparing breakfast and saw the tension in his neck and shoulders, and he realized that his dad was scared that he might not be coming back. "Dad," he began tentatively. "Dad, when I come back can I...I..." He bit his lip and wasn't sure how to say it. He didn't want to get all mushy and stuff, and he got the feeling that neither did his dad. "Can I have a dog?" he finally blurted out. His dad blinked a couple times in surprise as his jaw dropped open. "I've never had one before. Mom didn't think an apartment in the City was the best place for one. She said that a dog needs room to run and...well, you've got a pretty big yard and I just thought...can I?" he rambled on. It wasn't what he had intended to say exactly, but it was true. He had always wanted a dog.

Max was stunned and it took him a couple of moments to find his voice. "Uh, yeah, sure. We... uh, when you get back we'll go get you a dog," he said then looked over at the grill. His pancakes were burning. He simply turned the burner off. He'd already made enough for everyone. "Next weekend. We can go next weekend and look for one. You'll be back by then...right?" he asked as he finally sat down to eat.

"Yeah, Friday I think. I...I'm kind of looking forward to seeing Uncle Simon, though. He's always been like family. You know, birthdays, holidays, and vacations...that is, while Mom and Dad were alive." He stopped and looked up at his dad, his other dad for a moment. "I mean the..."

Max held up his hand to stop him. "It's okay. I know that they loved you and that you loved them. I'm glad that you had parents like that. It's what I asked my dad to do, make sure he found good ones like I'd had. It's okay to talk about them. So Uncle Simon...I guess that I'll need to meet with him to work out custody. Uh, Cal said that he was a wily shark. I guess that's good. You need someone like that looking out for you," he said as he took a bite of his breakfast. He swished the chocolate chips around his mouth and smiled a little. "The kids are right, these are pretty damn good," he thought to himself as he added just a touch more Tabasco.

"Yeah, I guess so. But he knows that I want to come back here and be with you, so he shouldn't be too difficult. I don't think," he said as he stabbed another pancake. It was his fourth one. "What time does Aunt Isabel get here?"

"She'll pick up Gary at the motel around 7:00, so she should be here by 7:15. It's a long drive. Sammy, are you sure that you understand why I need to stay here and can't go to the airport with you?" he stopped eating to ask.

"Oh yeah, I understand, you can't leave Liz. It'd take too long to get back here if she went into labor again. And I don't want anything to happen to my little brother or sister. It's okay. It's going to be bad enough with Aunt Isabel and Grandma getting all mushy and stuff on me at the airport. At least Grandpa will be there for support." the teen told his dad, who just smiled. His grandparents arrived a little later and had some breakfast while his dad carried a tray up to Liz. A little before 7:00 he was surprised to hear a knock at the door. It was too early for Aunt Isabel. Since he was done eating and Dad was upstairs, he answered it himself. "Hey, Uncle Michael," he said as he stepped back from the door to let him in.

"Hey, kid. You're looking better," Michael replied. Then he leaned closer and said, "You got a helluva blast there, kid. I'll get with ya when you get back and show ya a few tricks that you might like...just don't let your dad know," he said with a wink, making Sammy smile.

Max came down the stairs when he heard the door open and close. "Hey Michael. What got you up so early on a day off?" he asked.

"Mmmm," Michael motioned with the large 10x13 envelope in his hand.

Philip came around the corner sipping coffee. "Michael, morning. I didn't realize that you were going to see us off, too," he said as he shook the young man's hand.

"Morning...uh, actually I was wondering if you could do me...us, I mean.. if you could do us a favor? Um, yesterday morning the kids made some cards and drawings and...well, Maria put in a letter, and the latest school pictures and a DVD of Alex's 1st birthday party. We were wondering if you could give it to Amy for us," the father of four asked.

"I'd be happy to. I'll put it in my bag, along with the letter Liz is sending to her folks, too. I'm sure Amy's going to be thrilled. And from what I understand, Amy may be able to actually get to meet those four rascals of yours soon," he said kindly as he took the envelope and stuck it in his satchel.

"Yeah, just think. Amy, Maria, and Megan, three generations of DeLuca women under the same roof, at the same time...can't wait to see that!" Max said, and he broke out in a grin as he gave his friend a good-natured slap on the back. He laughed at the scowl he got in return.

~

Sammy quietly ascended the stairs and peeked around the doorframe. He didn't want to wake her up if she was sleeping. She immediately spotted him and smiled. "Hey Liz. I just wanted to say goodb...to say that we're leaving now," he told her as she held out her arms to him for a hug. He couldn't say good-bye. He was coming back. It wasn't good-bye.

Liz hugged him tight and then kissed his cheek. "You have a good flight. I know that you're going to do great," she told him as she looked into his eyes. He had his father's eyes, so soulful. "Do me a favor, listen to Cal. You don't have to like him, just listen to him. He really will help you if you let him. Just like Simon and Gary want to help you, like we all want to. And then come back home here as soon as you can." She paused a moment. "But remember, you're the one that's going to be getting up at night to take the dog out for a walk, and cleaning up after him. Got that?" the mother in her informed the teen. They both smiled and hugged again. "You take care and be careful. We're all here for you. We love you. Have a good flight, sweetie." They exchanged one more hug and kiss, then he left the room. His dad was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs.

Max just looked at him, drinking in the image of his son. There was so much that he wanted to say to him, but he couldn't let the words out. He was afraid if he let himself start then the dam would burst. He didn't want to do that, not now, not in front of his son. He swallowed a couple of times and grabbed his son in a tight bear hug for several minutes. He kissed him a couple of times on the forehead and cheek, and then hugged him again. "I love you. Remember that, I love you," he finally managed to choke out just as he let go of his son. Philip came over and gave Max a hug, told him that he loved him, and that he would call when he got into Roswell. Then Diane gave Max a hug before she followed the others out to the car. She wasn't leaving, but she was riding with them to the airport, wanting to get in a few more hours with her husband and grandson. And then some mother/daughter time in on the ride back. He stood at the curb and watched as Isabel's car pulled out to disappear down the street then he walked back into the house. He stood vacantly in the middle of the living room. He didn't know what to do with himself. The house was so quiet. He and Liz had always appreciated a tranquil house. Now it unnerved him. He heard Liz call, "Max," from upstairs. He took the stairs three at a time and then just stood in the doorway, looking at her for a moment. She was so beautiful, made even more so by the life she was carrying inside her. A life that they had created together. The tears that he had held back all morning started streaming down his face as he went into her arms, where he would finally be able to cry out the pain of having to let his son go once more, before falling into an exhausted sleep.

~

It was a surprisingly quiet ride to the airport with Sammy in the back sitting between his grandparents. He smiled up at his grandma as she gave him a little extra squeeze. She'd refused to let go of him for the last hour. He'd been right. She's going to get all mushy on him. "Grandma, I'm only going to be gone for a week or so," he told her softly.

Diane sniffed a little. "I know, honey," she agreed, and kissed the top of his head. "Just a week," she told him, and herself.

"We're here," Isabel announced, then she added, "I guess we should go around here to the private plane area." It had been a hard drive. The car had held so much emotion. She wasn't sure if she was going to be able to make it back in one piece with just her mom. They were both going to be basket cases on the return trip. She didn't even want to think of what Max was going to be like. Liz would have her hands full. Isabel pulled up to the little building in front of the hangers where the private planes were housed. Gary got out to and walked over to the offices to check on where to go from there. She turned around and looked at her parents. She had dreamed of being reunited with her parents for so long. She had never even hoped to include her nephew in that reunion. Now she was once again having to say good-bye. She took a deep breath to help push away those thoughts before they smothered her. "I guess it's about a three or four hour flight. At least it should be a comfortable flight, since Cal always insists on only the best," she rambled on as she wrestled with her emotions.

"I'm sure it will be," Philip agreed as Gary came back over and pointed to a pretty decent sized executive jet. Upon arrival, the co-pilot met them and showed them where to stow their luggage, what little they had. With everything stowed Philip turned to say his good-byes to his wife. "Diane, I'll call when I get home. Everything is going to be all right. It's going to work out...but, if it doesn't, I want you to go with the kids. I'll catch up eventually."

"Philip, you're not going back because of the house and stuff, are you?" she accused him. They'd been married too long, knew each other too well. Philip would never leave his family to see to material things. He just wouldn't.

"No, if things go to hell and Cal has to run with Sammy, his cover is blown. He won't be able to help them like he does now. He'll have to reestablish himself somewhere as someone else. And until that time, they're going to need someone to help feed them information or money. Simon can supply the money but...well, he may be a smart guy and a good lawyer, but he's new to all of this. I at least have some experience and a few contacts," he explained.

"Philip, you'll be watched. From the very second they make a connection between Sammy and Max, and you know as well as I do that won't take long. All they'd have to do is get a school year book with Max's picture in it and compare photos and they'll know. How are you going to be able to help then?" she asked with a tinge of desperation in her tone.

"It's not a lifetime career that we're talking about here, just long enough to make sure that they all get away and are safe. Remember honey, it was the Special Unit that was watching us, not the regular FBI. With the Special Unit gone, I'm betting that it will take a while for them to piece things together and until that time, I can help the kids best by being on the outside. Afterwards, when it's safe, I'll join you and the kids. Here, I picked up a new cell phone. Here's the number for it. Give it to Max. I'll call him on it tonight to let everyone know that I'm okay, and that Sammy and Gary got off okay. Don't worry Diane. It'll work out. It has to. It's the best shot we've had at a normal life with our family in years. We have to take it. Now, take good care of the kids. With luck, I'll be back before that second grandchild of ours is born," he told her as he hugged her tight and gave her an impassioned kiss that he could remember for a long time, just in case. Then he slipped her a piece of paper with the cell phone number on it.

Isabel clung to Sammy as she waited for her parents. She gave her nephew one last good hug and kiss then it was her turn with her father. "Oh Daddy!" she sobbed as she fell into his arms, "I'm going to miss you so much!

"Oh Princess, it's okay. We'll all be back soon. Don't worry. Just keep an eye on that brother of yours for me. I'll see you soon, honey...I promise," he soothed her as he held her and kissed her cheek. She would always be his little girl. He didn't give a damn where she had come from or how old she got. She was his little girl. He glanced over at Diane holding Sammy again. Then he tried to clear the lump in his throat. "Well, we should get going," he announced to the group. One final hug all around and the men boarded the plane.

~

The first hour of the plane ride was relatively quiet. They perused the current Sport Illustrated and Fortune magazines, and helped themselves to a few pre-made sandwiches as well as sodas or drinks, since there wasn't a steward accompanying them on this trip. Sammy busied himself by watching the clouds pass underneath, but he eventually grew bored. After a while he turned around and looked over at his grandfather. "Grandpa, you said that you were going to tell me some stories about my dad," he reminded him.

Philip smiled somewhat as he tucked the magazine he'd been reading away. "Yeah, I guess I did, didn't I?" he responded and scratched his chin, trying to figure out where to start. "Well, I suppose that I should start at the beginning," he said as Sammy moved closer and made himself comfortable. "Diane and I were driving back from Albuquerque to Roswell. It was late at night, and I had decided to take this back road home. It was a clear night and the stars seemed to go on forever. Then, suddenly out of nowhere, there they were in the middle of the road. Two little kids, holding hands, and stark naked." He shook his head a little at the memory. "We didn't know what to think. We couldn't see a trace of anyone else around for miles, just the two kids, and they weren't saying a word. They just stared wide-eyed at us, not making a sound. We bundled them up in our coats and stuck them between us in the truck cab. Max watched every move that I made. He didn't seem frightened, more curious than anything. I remember thinking that it was as if he'd never seen anyone drive before." He chuckled at that. "I had no idea at the time that, that was exactly what it was, it was his first time in a car. Anyhow, we took them home and called the authorities. Diane fixed them some sandwiches while we waited. Now that I think about it, it was pretty obvious that they didn't know how to eat. Max choked on the first couple of bites, and I think it was him that spit the milk out all over the table. He never has been overly fond of milk. I remember that the wall light switch fascinated them. They kept flipping it on and off. They wanted to touch everything, try everything, like it was their first time ever seeing it. I guess we should have known right then that they were a bit different. We could have watched them explore and play all night. They had this incredible look of wonder on their faces about everything, and they were awfully sweet kids. It was hard to let them go when the social worker came to take them." He paused to take a sip of soda. "The first time that we went to visit them at the Children's Shelter, Max looked so unhappy, like he was lost and didn't know what to do. They were still learning how to talk so our conversations were rather short, lots of yes and no answers. We found out later that it had been pretty hard on them there at first. They had been separated. Max had to sleep in the boys room, and Isabel with the girls. They didn't understand and didn't know how to ask questions. I can only imagine how scary it was for them to be separated like that. Also, I know that the other kids teased them about being different and not knowing anything. I had the feeling that social workers were pretty relieved when we agreed to take them both. It was kind of sad though. Max wasn't the outgoing, curious child he had been on that first night. He was much more...cautious and reserved. He had a tendency to just watch things and rarely joined in. I got the impression that he had understood a lot more about what people were saying, and the teasing he took from the other kids, than people realized....and that he didn't like it.

It took him a while to open back up to Diane and I," he finished and patted Sammy on the knee. "But he did somewhat...eventually. I remember the first time that Max and Isabel really got into it. Max still tended to be quiet and that made him an easy target for his sister. One weekend, Isabel had this little girl from down the street for a sleep over and they both had been taunting Max all day. And Max had finally had enough. He had this ant farm..."

Sammy laughed until his sides ached.

Part 17

Philip walked into the empty house and winced as he looked around. The place was a mess from the FBI search. But at least the sheriff had kept an eye on it for them, and he saw that their cars were still safely parked in the driveway. Tomorrow he would touch base with the sheriff to find out more about what had been happening in their absence, and then drop by to see Amy, and finally Jeff and Nancy. He took a cleansing breath. First though, he needed to call his wife. He dropped his satchel by the sofa, pulled out his new cell phone and dialed. "Hello, Diane? Honey, how are you? How's the family?" he wanted to know.

"We're doing okay. Isabel and I just got back. Max has been with Liz most of the day, napping. He's...he's okay. Michael sent over some stir fry for dinner so we're having that, although none of us are really very hungry. How was your flight? And Sammy? How was he? Did he handle the separation okay?" Diane asked.

"It was fine. He was fine. I told him a bunch of stories about when the kids were little. I think I had better pack up some of those DVD's that we had made off of the old video tapes so he can see them when we both get back there. But yeah, he's doing fine. He's a tough kid. He'll do all right, don't worry." He said as he sat down on the sofa and looked around again. "The place is a bit of a mess, so I'll probably spend some time in the morning cleaning it up. The FBI weren't too careful with things. The sheriff got our cars back okay, though. I'll check in with him first thing tomorrow, and then drop off the letters and stuff to everyone. Oh, and Sammy said that he'd call when he got into New York tonight." He paused. "So everything's all right there?" he asked one last time.

Diane looked over at her daughter who was sitting at the table, but not eating. Max had gotten up to greet them when they'd come in and get their reassurances that Sammy and everyone gotten off okay, then he'd gone back to curl up next to Liz, drawing comfort from her love. She had fixed them both plates and taken them up to them. Liz had eaten about half of hers, but Max's was still untouched the last time she'd checked. She sighed before answering. "Things are as well as can be expected, I guess. Max will be a whole lot better after this is all over and done with. At least Liz seems to be doing okay. No contractions or anything." She stopped to count their blessings for *that*. " So will I get to talk to you tomorrow?" She wondered.

Philip smiled. "Yeah. I'll call tomorrow night. Have them give me a call if anything changes. Give everyone my love. I love you, Diane," he told her emphatically.

"I will, and I love you too. Bye," she said before reluctantly disconnecting the call. She turned to her daughter and frowned. "Isabel, eat something. Please? You're almost as bad as your brother." She admonished as she joined her daughter at the table. "Are you all ready for your class tomorrow?" she asked as a way to get things moving along, while not dwelling on things that they couldn't control.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Isabel she answered sounding even more tired. "So, what did Dad have to say?" she inquired, and then listened as her mom filled her in.

~

Sammy wasn't sure what to make of the middle-aged Hispanic couple that boarded the plane when they landed Mexico. They were only on the ground for maybe twenty minutes then they were airborne again, on their way to JFK. They'd brought a ton of luggage with them and seemed ready for an extended stay in New York City. After some hesitation he finally managed a shy, "hi," by way of greeting.

Lucinda had been told all about the boy and his friend by Senor Cal. Senor Cal had been a godsend to them when they had needed one to keep from loosing their modest hacienda. By making it the backdrop for his movie he had given them the income to keep their home and become a life long friend in the bargain. Senor Cal had never asked for much in return, and he had been very generous in the arrangements for the use of their home for other movies, even going so far as to recommend it to other production companies. And even when he did ask for their help, it was for a good cause, like helping this poor orphaned boy. Oh, she and Manuel had been furious when told of the problem. Imagine harming a poor child and then having the authorities come after him, and his friend as well for simply trying to protect him until this other friend, Simon, returned from Europe and could straighten things out. They were especially glad to hear that Senor Cal had found extended family for the child to live with. Senor Cal was such a wonderful, kind man, who did such wonderful good deeds for those in need. Certainly, they would help. They didn't know where exactly the man and boy had been, and it didn't matter, if Senor Cal said he and his friends needed their help, then help they would. She smiled warmly at the child, such a nice looking boy, and what incredible eyes. She briefly wondered if Senor Cal had considered helping him start a career in Hollywood. "You are Sammy, no?" She asked kindly.

"Yeah," he bashfully replied.

"Ah, you poor child. Senor Cal will make sure you and your friend are well taken care, don't you worry," she told him as she pulled out a carry-on she'd brought and removed a plastic container of something from it. "Here, I am known for my pastries, and I also know that young boys are always hungry. Here, have some," she instructed him as she moved the container closer for him to take one. "Take another. I'm sure you can eat at least two," she informed him and beamed when he took the second one. She could tell from his expression as he bit into one that she had been right. He loved them. Another, more familiar looking hand snaked around from behind the seat for one, and she quickly slapped it away. "You have had more than enough already, Manuel. These are for our 'guests'. After all, the boy will need to be able to brag about my cooking and baking, no? He should know first hand about what he is talking about," she told her husband quite pointedly as she offered a pastry to Gary before closing the lid on the container. She then whipped out a photo album and motioned for both Sammy and Gary to come closer to look. "This is our hacienda," she began as she proudly opened the photo album. "And this is the guest room that you stayed in Sammy, with the bath off to the side that you used. This is the kitchen where you were such a help to me. And here are the stables and the horse, Midnight that you learned to ride after you were feeling better..." she continued on as a story for each picture was spun. They would all meticulously repeat these stories back to each other for the next six hours while gorging on pastries; even Manuel eventually managed to sneak a pastry or two, when Lucinda wasn't looking.

~

Simon watched as the sleek corporate jet taxied over to the private hangar area. He still felt like crap. The only thing that was worse than having a hangover was having a two-day hangover. His head still hurt and he had a case of dry mouth that gallons of water hadn't been able to quench. He had no one but himself to blame...except for Cal. He blamed Cal for a lot of things. But he also recognized that to get out of this relatively unscathed, they all needed Cal, especially Sammy. And since he had leased Sam's old apartment to Cal for three years, he was going to be stuck with him for some time. That galled him even more. Hopefully Cal would remain mostly on the West Coast. He licked his lips and took a drink of bottled water, trying to moisten his dry mouth somewhat as the plane came to a stop. He had to wait patiently for a custom's official to come over and clear them. Simon rarely pulled the privileged big money card, but in this case, special handling wouldn't hurt. Cal had told him that both Sammy and Gary's passports had been stamped correctly, by whom he didn't ask. He was relieved that the official didn't question Gary about the proper paperwork for leaving and returning with a minor child. Good. He grinned like an idiot when an exuberant boy, that he hadn't seen for far too long, came bounding right to him. "Maybe this Max isn't so bad, if he can put a smile on Sammy's face like that," he thought to himself as he wrapped his arms around Sammy for a good hug. "God, it's good to see you. Are you all right?" he asked as he drew back a little and studied Sammy's face. He couldn't see any sign of bruising and Sammy definitely seemed okay, happy even.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just glad to be back and to see you. It seems like I've been gone forever," Sammy admitted and grew quiet for a moment, then he immediately brightened again. "Wait until you see what I can do! Man, Dad taught me so much! We worked all day yesterday on it. It's totally cool!" he told him before stepping aside as Gary approached.

"I can't wait," Simon replied, not at all sure if that was the truth or not. He sighed and then smiled as his arms went around his lover and best friend. "Remind me never to let you baby-sit again... ever," he joked as he and Gary kissed and hugged again. "Come on, we've got a limo to take us home and Cal sent another one for the Vega's. They have a suite waiting at the Plaza. I gotta admit, when Cal makes up his mind to do something, he spares no expense. You guys hungry?" he asked as they climbed in the limo.

"No!" both Gary and Sammy replied at the same time. Most likely they'd be looking for the Pepto before the end of the night. They'd devoured off all of Lucinda's rich pastries and there was no doubt that they would be paying for it later on.

"I'm supposed to call my dad and let him know that I got here okay, Uncle Simon," Sammy said as the limo exited the airport through the special VIP entrance/exit. He quickly dialed the new cell phone that Simon handed him. He had already memorized the number. "Grandma?" he asked as soon the phone on the other end was picked up.

~

"Sammy, sweetie, is everything okay?" Diane responded with a relieved sigh.

"Yeah, it's great. I'd forgotten how much I loved New York... and Uncle Simon, too. Is Dad there?" the boy asked a little tentatively. Before he'd left something had told him that his dad was much more worried than he had let on.

Diane looked up towards the stairs. Max had disappeared back upstairs to the comfort of Liz's arms. "Yeah, hold on for a second and I'll take him the phone," she told him as she headed up the stairs. She knew that Max would be forced to snap out of it in order to talk to his son. There was no way Max would want Sammy to know how hard this was hitting him. She cautiously peered into the room. The curtains were closed and Max was curled up at Liz's side in the darkened room. For a moment she thought that he was sleeping, but then she saw him blink. "Max, Max, it's Sammy. He's made it to New York, and he wants to talk to you." She informed him as she purposefully strode into the room with phone in hand. She smiled when Liz immediately sat up, causing Max to do the same, as she flicked on the bedside table lamp.

Max had pretty much shut down after everyone had left this morning. He didn't want to do, think, or feel anything. It just hurt too much. Like back when he and Liz were at odds so long ago. So he shut down and refused to do anything. It had taken a Herculean effort of will to get up and go downstairs when his mom and sister had returned. He vaguely recalled Mom coming in at some point to tell him that Dad had called to let them that he was back in Roswell. He had only been able to nod and mumble, "that's good". He had to blink a couple of times for his eyes to adjust to the light as he tried to comprehend his mother's words. It was automatic to take the phone that was being thrust at him. He was still trying to get his brain working as he said, "hello".

Sammy thought that his dad sounded...funny. He frowned, but not sure what else to do, he ignored it and simply went ahead and hoped for the best. "Hey Dad. I made it to New York okay. The flight was good. Mr. & Mrs. Vega were totally cool. She baked a bunch of awesome pastries for us. I think I ate too many though. Hey, Grandpa was telling me a bunch of stories. Did you really dump your ant farm in Aunt Isabel's bed?" he asked in a cheerful tone.

Max's brain was spinning as it tried to figure out what his son had just asked him. "Uh...ant farm? I...uh...I'm not sure. When did I...."

"When you guys were little. Grandpa said that Aunt Isabel had some friend stay over and they had been picking on you and to get back at them..."

"I dumped my ant farm in her bed...yeah, I guess I sort of did. I was only about seven or eight at the time, though," he said in his defense, as the memory finally came back to him. He wasn't sure about these stories Dad seemed to enjoy telling Sammy, but he doubted there was anything he could do about it. "Grandparent's prerogative", he was sure would be Dad's reply if Max said anything to him. Forcing his brain to function and sound normal he said, "So you had a good flight, eh?"

"Yeah, yeah, I did," Sammy said with a yawn. It had been a very long day and it was starting to catch up with him. "How're Liz and everybody back there?"

Max glanced over at his wife that was sitting next to him, watching him carefully. "She's fine. The baby's fine," he told him and then added, "and so is everyone else. You sound tired. You should probably get to bed soon."

Sammy tried unsuccessfully to stifle another yawn. "I guess I am a little bit. It was a long flight. Okay, I'll call you tomorrow. Should I call you at home or work?" he asked.

Max paused for a moment. He wasn't sure if he was planning on going into work tomorrow or not. He knew that it wasn't fair to Michael. He looked over at Liz while he told him, "I'm not sure of my work schedule tomorrow." He watched Liz's eyes grow fierce as she silently mouthed, "Go to work!" at him. "Work. I'll be at work tomorrow. Give me a call there before 5:00 or at home afterwards. 'Kay? Sammy...I...I love you. Remember that."

"I know Dad. I'll remember. I love you, too. Give everyone a hug and a kiss for me. I'll call you tomorrow. Bye," he told his father and clicked off the phone. He yawned again and he handed it back to Simon as the limo pulled up to their apartment building.

~

Diane watched her son trying to pull himself back together. She had no doubt that he would have stayed home tomorrow and moped all day if they'd let him. Thank God there was no way that Liz was going to let that happen. One day was more than enough. "I'm glad that you're going to work tomorrow. You need to stay busy to get through this," she told him as he handed the phone back to her. She didn't like the weak nod in agreement he responded with. "Max, I do have some idea of what you're going through. Your child is thousands of miles away and you can't be there to help him, to keep him safe. You have to rely on others for that and it's tearing you up inside. But you've got to remember that Sammy wouldn't want you to...to become so overcome with worry that you can't go on. I know that you wouldn't have wanted your father and I to have done that, would you?" she asked him sympathetically.

Max froze and really looked his mom for a moment. He knew that his parents were heartbroken over the 15 years that they'd been apart from their children and grandchild. Sure he had always missed Sammy, but at least he consoled himself with the thought that Sammy was safe. The added worry over his safety and well-being NOW was overpowering...almost. He wondered how his parents had managed to do it for so long. "You're right Mom. Sammy wouldn't want me acting like this. I know I wouldn't have wanted it for you and Dad. Mom... thanks," he told her as his arms wrapped around her for a hug.

~

Gary came back into their bedroom fresh from a shower. He spotted Simon sitting on the side of the bed looking at nothing. "Hey, penny for your thoughts?" he quipped while finishing getting ready for bed.

"I charge a hell of a lot more than that," Simon mock growled with a slight smirk before turning serious. "Gary, I was thinking that maybe Sammy should stay here with us. You saw how happy he was to be back. Maybe next summer he could go visit Max Evans. That'd give us time to...double check on some things," he suggested. When he got no answer in reply, he turned to face his companion. His unhappy looking companion.

"Simon, you're right that Sammy is glad to be back in New York. But he's already made it known that he wants to go back to his dad just as soon as possible," Gary reminded him.

"But I'm not sure that's the best thing for him," Simon said as he stood and started to pace. "Look, I blew it once already, two years ago, by letting him go with David. I knew that David was a deadbeat asshole, but I...I was too afraid of things looking improper. You know, the greedy lawyer holding onto the money and the kid, so I agreed to let him live with David. And look what happened? I'm not going to make the same mistake twice. I can't...I won't. We could give him everything he needs right here, and then some. I won't object to visits with his...dad, but I think that Sammy's better off here," Simon admitted to him.

Gary faced him. He could see the turmoil going on inside Simon. He wanted to give Sammy what he wanted. However he didn't trust anyone, but himself to know what was best for Sammy...not even Sammy himself. "Simon, you know that I'll support you in whatever you decide, but I don't agree. I can't. Two weeks ago Sammy showed up at our door terrified out of his mind. Not of what David had done to him, but what he had done to David. He didn't know what he had done or how to control it. Now, look how he was tonight. The first thing that he did when we got home was to show you how he could change that elephant statue into a dolphin and back again, how he could levitate objects. We couldn't have done that for him. We wouldn't have even known where to begin. His father showed him how to do all of that in one day. Think of what else he still needs to be taught." He could see that while his words had registered, Simon still wasn't convinced. "Material possessions-wise, we could probably give him more, but I don't think that's what Sammy really needs or wants. Not now. Not anymore. While Max Evans and his extended family aren't wealthy, they certainly love and support each other, and * that * I know is something that Sammy needs. Besides, I know from first hand experience, that if Sammy really wants something, you're not going to be able to talk him out of it no matter how hard you try," he pointed out to Simon. "Look, Max Evans is not Cal Langley. Later this week, after the FBI interviews are done with, why don't you sit down with Max and actually talk to him. Get to know him a little better before you rush to judgment," Gary suggested. He didn't state the obvious. If Max wanted Sammy with him and Sammy wanted to go, there wasn't anything that would stop Max from simply coming and taking him...or having Cal do it for him. At the same time though, Gary doubted that Max would resort to something like that. He wouldn't want to do anything to upset Sammy, but then again Max has shown that he would use deadly force to protect his own. There were eight very dead agents that he saw vanish before his eyes not too long ago to prove it. "Just think about it," Gary requested of Simon as they finally crawled into bed.

~

Sammy stood fidgeting nervously just inside the federal building as he waited for Gary and Simon to present their ID's and go through the scanners. He stuck his hands inside his pockets for lack of a better idea of what to do with them. Finally they were through and they had been instructed to take the elevators to the third floor. He felt a hand touch his shoulder and looked over at Simon, who gave him a small smile of reassurance as they walked over and stepped into the elevator.

Simon was doing his best to keep his game face up, but Sammy wasn't making it easy. The kid was scared. They'd spent all of yesterday going over possible questions that they were likely to be asked and making sure that everyone's stories were straight. But not too straight, or that may make the Feds even more suspicious. Sammy had seemed full of confidence yesterday, but that was yesterday in their nice, safe apartment. This was today. He put a hand on Sammy's shoulder and gave him a smile. "Just relax and answer the questions. You'll do just fine," he told him in as calm voice as he could muster. He glanced over at Gary. "You too," he added with a nod and got a hesitant one in return. As they were being escorted to some conference rooms they passed a flamboyant looking Cal Langley, playing the big time movie producer to the hilt, touring the general area. Simon would have laughed if he hadn't known the real reason for Cal being there. As it was, he couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes. The guy sure knew how to play the game. His attention was immediately back to the task at hand as they entered the meeting room and took their seats.

Agent Main frowned when their three guests all sat down. "This won't do," he thought. "Mr. Wilcox, Agent Fredericks would like to speak with you separately if you don't mind," he informed him.

"Why?" Simon asked, his a mask of innocence. He knew why. They all knew why, but they were going to play the parts anyway.

"We just want to make sure that everything is... correct," Agent Main responded with equal nonchalance. He knew the game too. He simply didn't know that, facing Simon Shapiro, he was outclassed.

Simon watched as Gary gave him a level look then rose to follow the agent into the adjacent room. Once the door closed he turned his total attention to the remaining agents. His eyes briefly flicked over to the other agent sitting there, quietly video recording everything, then he focused on Agent Main.

Agent Main returned the attorney's frank stare. "Perhaps it would be best if Sammy and I chat in private," he suggested.

Looking like a lion who'd just gotten the better of a young gazelle Simon thought, "Let the games begin." Then he spoke aloud. "No. I'm his attorney and his legal guardian. I have every legal right to be here and I'm not leaving. In point of fact, both state and federal law expressly forbid *you* from talking to him out of my presence. As his attorney of record I have a right to be here, and as his legal guardian I have a duty to be here. Furthermore, on that note, I suggest that you make this as quick as possible. * Chatting*, as you so innocuously put it, with the FBI is a rather traumatic experience, especially for an innocent child. I'm sure you'll want to limit that trauma," Simon finished firmly.

Agent Main studied Simon for a bit. He'd figured that it was worth a try as an opening gambit, but knew no lawyer would willingly leave his client alone to be questioned, and Mr. Shapiro had never been accused of such negligence. "Of course," he said with a bit of a friendly smile as he turned his attention to the teen. There was no missing the obvious fact that the boy was nervous, but what he didn't know yet was... why. And that's what he needed desperately to find out. "Mr. Connor... Sammy, how are you? I understand you had some family issues?"

"Don't volunteer anything. Answer only the direct question being asked. Don't let them bait you. Don't answer leading questions. You don't need to fill any silent lapses. Don't ramble. It's okay to be nervous; they'll expect that, but try to stay focused..." all of yesterdays lesson kept running through his mind. "I'm doing okay." He replied, careful to answer only what was being asked, and then dutifully shut his mouth.

Agent Main waited for a moment, hoping to get him to say some more. "That's good. Is there anything that we need to do to help you?" he asked with false concern.

"No," Sammy replied then swallowed.

Agent Main glanced over at Simon, as evidence of a great deal of coaching became readily apparent. Turning his attention back to the boy. "So everything has been worked out?" he tried.

"Yes," was Sammy's only reply.

"This is going to be like pulling teeth," Agent Main thought. "Well, that's good. I imagine Mr. Shapiro has dutifully seen to all your legal needs. So let's talk about your other needs. You apparently needed to get away for a bit...rather quickly I'm told. Where exactly did you go?" he asked bluntly.

"Mexico," came Sammy's answer.

"Whom exactly do you know in Mexico?" Agent Main asked.

"Manuel and Lucinda Vega," Sammy answered shortly.

"And they are?" Agent Main now asked.

"Friends of Gary's," Sammy told him.

"Did you know them personally before visiting them?" Agent Main was starting to get it in the groove. No use asking long questions. He was only going to be getting short answers. So he'd just keep firing away and see how long it would take him to trip the boy up.

"No," Sammy said

"Then why did you go there?" Agent Main asked.

"Because that's where Gary was going," Sammy replied.

"And why were you going with Gary?" Agent Main inquired.

"Because I was scared and went to Gary for help," Sammy explained.

"Why Gary? Why not the police?" Agent Main questioned. He'd finally found something that the kid couldn't answer in one or two words.

"Uncle Simon...uh, Mr. Shapiro was always there for my dad. Going to him for help seemed like the natural thing to do, but he wasn't home. Gary was," Sammy told him. He frowned a little. Simon had said to keep answers short, the shorter the better. Had he said too much? He chanced a glance at Simon who gave him a nod of support.

"So you were looking to your father's lawyer for help. What had you done wrong that you needed a lawyer for?" Agent Main asked, baiting him.

"I...I hadn't done anything wrong. Uncle Simon was my father's friend, and my friend...that's who I went to for help," Sammy said defensively.

Agent Main nodded trying to look warm sympathetic and understanding as he made a note on his pad of paper. "That certainly got a rise out of the boy," he thought. "So you went to Mr. Shapiro for help, but wound up with Gary Wilcox. How'd that happen?" he asked, although he already knew that Mr. Shapiro had been out of the country, and that he'd quickly changed travel plans and returned home almost immediately.

"Uncle Simon wasn't home, just Gary and he helped me instead," Sammy told him as an acid ball was starting to form in his stomach.

"Your father was lucky to have so many friends for you to turn to," Agent Main commented and then waited. The kid looked like he was going to respond for a moment, but held his tongue. The kid was weakening. He made a show of checking some notes for a moment. "That was one hell of a storm that hit Mexico City last Thursday. Did the lightening frighten you?" he casually asked.

Sammy had to think for a second. The sudden change in questions had thrown him off and something didn't sound right. "I...no. I mean I wouldn't know since I wasn't in Mexico City," he got out as it finally came to him.

"Oh that's right. You were in Guadalajara at Roberto and Lucinda Vega's hacienda. Do they have stables? Did you get to ride any horses? I used to love to ride horses when I stayed in Montana with my uncle. How about you?" he asked with a big friendly smile.

"Roberto? You mean Manuel and Lucinda and yeah, they have a couple of horses. I rode Midnight a couple of times," Sammy told him; again being careful to answer only what was being asked and to correct the obvious mistake.

"Oh, that's right. I'm glad it sounds like you had a good time," he said as his hand slipped into a file folder. He slid a black and white photo over to the boy and very carefully watched for any sign of recognition.

It took everything Sammy had not to react to the picture. It was of a man that he'd never forget. How could he? He'd watched him point a gun at himself and Gary and fire, intent of murdering them both, and then watched as Cal and Uncle Michael had blown him the hell away. He wiped his sweaty hand on his pants before touching the picture and making a point of looking at it for a moment.

Agent Main wasn't sure. He thought that there might have been a glimmer of something there for a second. "Have you ever seen this man before?" he asked and waited until Sammy shook his head "no". "Are you sure you've never seen him?" he tried again.

"No. I don't remember ever seeing him before. Why?" he wasn't sure if he should ask, but Uncle Simon had told him that if they showed him pictures, they might wonder why he wasn't curious about them. He hoped that Uncle Simon was right.

"You're sure?" Agent Main asked more forcefully.

Stirring and clearing his throat, Simon spoke. "He's already answered twice. Let's move on, Agent," Simon told him.

Agent Main shoved another picture in front of the boy and again waited for the boy's response. "What about this one? Ever seen him?" he asked.

Again Sammy did his best to pretend to not know the person in the picture, which wasn't that hard since he'd never seen this one before. "No, never," he said as he shook his head. His heart lurched when a picture of his grandfather was shoved in front of him. He bit his lip a little and again shook his head "no". Picture after picture was then flung in front of him, some were of the agents that had stalked him and sought to kill him, some were of total strangers, and one was of his grandmother. He answered negatively in every case and did his best to stay in control. He almost blew it when one of Lucinda Vega was finally thrown in front of him. "No, wait. That's Lucinda Vega. I know her."

"Agent Main, I believe that we are at the end of this here. The boy's been through quite enough already. Is there anything else that you wish to know?" Simon said coldly. He was very proud of Sammy. He'd done very well, but there was a time or two when he'd gotten a 'twinge' of a response. It was time to bring this to an end before Main managed to get something really damaging.

"Of course Mr. Shapiro. Sammy do you know a Max Evans?" He asked pointedly.

Sammy shook his head. "Nope, who's he?" he asked. He felt like he needed to throw up. "Oh God, I blew it! They know who I am, who my dad is," he thought and prayed that the tears that he felt wouldn't actually start to form.

Agent Main smiled calmly. "Just some guy from Roswell, NM that another agent was interested in a long time ago. He disappeared sometime ago. I want to thank you for your help today, Sammy. I'm glad Mr. Shapiro was able to work things out for you," he said with false sincerity as he extended his hand. "Why don't you two have a seat out in the lobby and I'll see how much longer Mr. Wilcox is going to be," he instructed them. He then called out to them as they were walking through the door. "Mr. Shapiro, I have to admit that I’m curious why you didn’t have an associate here to advise Mr. Wilcox? You had to know that we'd be interviewing them separately."

Simon paused. It was a good question. One that he and Gary had discussed at length yesterday. They'd agreed that it was best not to bring anyone else in on things, even if they didn't tell them exactly what was going on, they didn't want to chance anyone else getting curious. "Sammy's family, and we wanted to keep it that way...all in the family. Besides, we're just chatting. Nothing here can be considered 'on the record' anyhow since no rights were ever read. And no crime was committed that would require them," he replied with a steady gaze. One that Agent Main returned in kind as he finally nodded to them before leaving to check on how the other agent was doing.

Sammy looked worriedly at Simon as they sat in the uncomfortable chairs by the receptionist's desk. "Uncle Simon....?"

"Shhh, you did fine Sammy, just fine," he told him as he patted his arm as they settled in to wait. They didn't have to wait long. He and Gary waited until they got home to compare notes. They had pulled pretty much the same tricks on Gary and had gotten the pretty much the same answers and responses. They hoped it was enough. Cal would call later on to let them know if it had been.

~

Agent Main watched the recording again of Fredericks and Gary's interview, and then switched back to his and Sammy's. This was the fourth time through. Agent Main just wasn't sure. He thought he'd gotten a hit from Sammy when he asked him about Max Evans, and maybe one when he showed him a picture of Agent Burns, but he just wasn't certain. "Cue the other one to where we started with the pictures again," he instructed the video specialist. They were at it another two hours and still weren't any closer to a definite answer. "Damn it!" he growled in frustration and then glanced over at the specialist. "You've been with us all day recording and now replaying these damned things over and over and still...ah, hell. Let's call it a day. We'll pack them up and send them to the lab in DC tomorrow for further analysis. See if they can find something that we can't. See ya tomorrow," he told him as he oversaw the tapes and back up tapes being locked up in separate secure storage units for the night.

The specialist took the long route home that night, one that took him by a popular nightspot in Manhattan where he stopped for a drink and met a friend, who had a friend, who had a friend. He hoped to get a chance at that audition that he'd heard about out of this.

~

Part 18

It felt wonderful to be back in New York. Every sound and scent said, 'home'. Gary breathed deeply of the cool morning air then started on his jog. He'd missed his morning routine for two weeks and it was time to get back into it. He jogged past the dry cleaners, the bakery, the auto shop, and that little Thai place that he and Simon loved, and then on down another mile to the bagel shop, where he picked up a half dozen assorted and some whipped cream cheese for breakfast. His jog swung around the block, at a quarter mile from his apartment he stopped at Starbucks for coffee and a paper, and walked the rest of the way home to cool off as he sipped his latte and enjoyed his beloved city. Once home he dropped the bag of bagels and cream cheese on the kitchen counter and sat down to read the paper. Something jumped out at him immediately.

Headline: Three Alarm Fire at Federal Building.

Gary's heart began hammer in his chest as he read the first paragraph.

Fire alarms sounded at 3:12AM this morning at the Federal Building, giving warning of an incident that quickly developed into a three-alarm blaze. The fire was started on the third floor, near offices and storage rooms where it did significant damage before spreading to the fourth and fifth floors. The sprinklers on the fourth and fifth floor kept damage to a minimum on those floors, but the fire department is investigating why the sprinkler system on the third floor apparently failed to go off as it was designed to do. At this time the fire is believed to have started in the building's electrical system, but it's exact origin is still under investigation......continued on page 28, column D.

Every nerve ending in Gary's body was buzzing as he got that 'dropping elevator' sensation. They had just been on the third floor yesterday. There was no way that this was a coincidence. He ran down the hall to their bedroom and practically dragged Simon out of bed in his hurried attempt to wake him. "Simon! Simon, it's gone. The.... the interviews.... everything gone... he burned them.... torched..."

Simon tried to concentrate on what Gary was telling him, but it wasn't easy. He'd gone from sound sleep to startled, adrenalin-forced wakefulness and now he was expected to understand what he was being told. Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, he grabbed a hold of Gary's shoulders to try to calm him down and get him to be more coherent. "Gary, what are you talking about? What's gone?"

"HERE!" Gary stressed as he shoved the paper at Simon.

Simon remained quiet as he read through the article, including what was on the back page. His first thought was to agree with Gary. This was no accident. It took some effort, but he finally got his brain to process and analyze what this meant. "Okay, first of all, no one was hurt, that's good. The timing...the timing is highly suspicious. If this was because of us then there's no doubt that Cal was behind it, but why? What was he trying to cover up..or..destroy?"

"Evidence. What else could it be?" Gary asked.

"Alien evidence? The tapes? Okay, let's say that's true. How did he know where it was kept? I mean, even we don't know that. It could have been sent anywhere, even to another building," Simon thought out loud.

Gary started to pace the floor. "He had someone on the inside. Remember? He told us that he had someone in the FBI working for him," he reminded Simon.

"That's right. But how'd he start the fire and disable the sprinkler system without being seen?" Simon wondered.

Gary shivered as he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "He's an alien, Simon. We keep forgetting that. I doubt that it was too difficult for him. Simon, won't they be looking at Sammy and me even harder now?" he asked as the coffee floating around his stomach started to burn.

"Perhaps," Simon admitted, though he wasn't entirely sure. In fact, he wasn't sure of anything at the moment. He hadn't been expecting this. He stared at the telephone sitting on his bedside table and fought the urge to simply pick it up, make the call, and tell Cal that he was coming over to *talk* to him. It would be so easy...and if they were now being watched it might seem so suspicious. "No... no, Sammy's supposed to go by the apartment today at noon to pick up his things. I'll talk to Cal then. We don't do anything different. You have a business that you've been neglecting and that you need to get back to. I've got some work to do at the office, but I'll take Sammy with me. Then take him over to the apartment at noon. We need to keep our heads and act like nothing out of the ordinary has happened." He paused a moment. "And besides, it's entirely possible that this had nothing to do with us," he finished rather lamely. Neither believed it.

~

It seemed very odd to Sammy to have to ring the doorbell to enter his own home, but then it wasn't his home anymore. The door swung open a moment later to reveal a smiling Cal, who ushered them in. Sammy noticed the strange look that Simon gave Cal, but for the moment they did nothing more than exchange pleasantries. Sammy couldn't help, but to look around in wonder. It was immediately obvious that Cal had spent some time and some serious money on the place already.

Cal caught the look that Simon was giving him. No doubt they'd be talking about last night shortly, but for now his attention was more on the boy. He was delighted to see the look of surprise on Sammy's face as he surveyed the hallway with its newly polished floors, and new wallpaper and paint. He was anxious to see his reaction to the rest of the place. "Come on in, your highness. Feel free to check out the rest," Cal told him with a flourish.

"Don't, don't call me that. I'm Sammy, just Sammy," the boy told him before stepping into what used to be his home.

"Of course," Cal said as he followed the boy towards the large living room. He watched his prince with rapt interest, and wondered what Sammy would notice first.

Sammy couldn't believe it. Not only was the room spotless, but wasn't that his mom's porcelain figurine collection in the display case? Hadn't Uncle David pawned that sometime ago? And over there, the Faberge egg. It was back on the mantel. The crystal and gold sconces were back, and the antique gold carriage clock was sitting on the walnut side table, where Mom had always kept it. It was back. All of it was back. He looked over to the fireplace and his heart dropped. The painting was gone. In its place hung a...was that a Monet? He wasn't sure.

He'd never seen it before. Sighing he turned back around to his host. "Cal, thanks, you must have gone to a lot of trouble to get everything back and fixed up. Thank you," he told him, but there was just a touch of sadness in his voice.

Cal smiled. He had been enjoying Sammy's reaction as he looked around the room, and he hadn't missed the change when the boy's mood took a sudden nosedive. He glanced over to the mantel at the priceless Monet that now hung there. While Cal could very much appreciate the finer elements of the previous owner's tastes and had no problem living with those elements, there were one or two changes that he had decided to make, just to make it known that this was now *his* home, at least for the next three years. "You're quite welcome. Now let's check out the rest and then you can see to your things."

Sammy was surprised to see that the ancient silk tapestries in the dining room had been restored to their former beauty. He had called a professional restorer once last year to see if they could be cleaned and was told it would take at least 9 months, and that even then there was no guarantee. Now they were in pristine condition after only a few days. Mom would have been so happy. The gouges in the teak dining table were gone as well, and the broken chair had been repaired. Cal mentioned something about the appliance repairman still needing to fix the stove and that the air duct guy was supposed to come out tomorrow. Even with everything that Cal had done, and Sammy was truly grateful to him for doing it, it still hurt that he had taken the painting down that used to hang above the fireplace in the living room. Sammy eventually made his way to his old room and stopped in his tracks as he entered. His room, like the rest of the house, was spotless. No clothes on the floor or dirty glasses on the dresser, the bed was made, he noted the new bedspread with appreciation. The thing that really transfixed him though was hanging above the head of the bed, the painting. Heedless of what he was doing, Sammy climbed on top of the bed and ran to the wall to see the painting up close. He lovingly ran his fingers along the edge of it, where it had been torn. One night Uncle David had become convinced that there were valuables behind it and recklessly ripped it from the wall, damaging the antique frame and ripping the painting at the bottom corner. Now it was once again perfect. His eyes got bleary as he looked up at it. It was a portrait of him at age 10 with Mom, staring back at him. Mom had made him wear his new suit and dragged him down to a studio where they would return several times for a series of sittings with a local artist. Mom was sitting in straight back chair with Sammy standing behind her and to her left, smiling out at everyone. It had been Dad's forty-fifth birthday present. Dad had been so surprised and so proud. He said that it deserved to hang in a place of honor as he mounted it above the mantel.

Cal watched it all from the hall and relished every minute of it. It felt damn good. Clearing his throat to get Sammy's attention he said, "It would have seemed...odd...for me to leave it hanging in the main living room. It might have caused too many curious questions about who's in the painting. I thought that it seemed appropriate for it to be here, in your room. And this, Sammy, is still your room. I want you to know that. I plan on being here only part time, and I'm guessing that you'll be in New York every once in a while," he paused to look at Simon for a moment then continued, "so when you're here, feel free to use the apartment. I'll keep this room as is and off limits to everyone else. Oh, and here's a new key to the place and the security combo. I had to have them changed recently after the eviction of a squatter," he told Sammy as he handed over the key and a slip of paper. "Now if you'll excuse us, I believe that Simon has some business he wants to discuss with me, and you have some packing to do. I found some luggage and put it in your closet. Let me know if you need anything else," Cal told him.

"Cal..thanks," Sammy finally got out before Cal disappeared down the hall with Simon. Sammy pulled out the luggage, which he recognized as his father's, and began to pack his personal belongings.

~

Cal casually lit a cigar and offered one to Simon, once they were out on the balcony. "What's on your mind counselor?" he asked between puffs as he looked out at the Manhattan skyline.

"The fire, Cal. That was your doing, wasn't it?" Simon accused without preamble.

Cal shrugged. "It was necessary," was his explanation.

Simon was livid. "What? Bullshit. You set a damn building on fire, for what? To destroy a couple of tapes? There had to be a better way. All that damage. What if they figure out...."

"It's just a building. It can be replaced. Would you rather I'd waited and ambushed the courier instead?" Cal coolly asked.

"Ambushed the....what are you talking about?" Simon asked in return as he sat down heavily on a patio chair.

"They got a couple of pings, twitches really. So they were going to send the tapes, and the associated reports and transcripts, to DC for further review. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't take the chance of them connecting Sammy to anything, especially to Max." Cal told him as he pulled up another chair across from Simon.

"But won't they be even more interested in Sammy now, with the timing of the fire and everything?" Simon pointed out.

Cal pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Perhaps, perhaps, but then yours were just a couple of many. Some of those many, no doubt, would have equal reason to see their own tapes and records go up in smoke. Oh, I have no doubt they'll be looking at everyone that was there in the preceding weeks, or months even. But what are they going to do? Re-interview everyone? Re-investigate? With a little help, yours will be nothing more than a low priority case that isn't worth the resources to look at again. Very low priority. This isn't the X-Files, counselor. And if by chance they do decide to make the effort, by that time all the other evidence will have vanished as well. Case closed." Cal confidently informed him.

"You're sure? There's no way that they can figure out that you were the one who was behind the fire?" Simon asked suspiciously. All this just seemed so unreal to him.

"Why would they? That fire was caused by a power surge of unknown origin that sparked a fire while playing havoc with the sprinkler system. Had nothing to do with me," Cal said with a sincere look of lamb-like innocence that he knew Simon wouldn't believe for a second.

"I still don't like this," Simon told him after some thought.

"You don't have to," Cal responded. There was an implied 'but you still have to go along with it' on the end of that statement that Simon liked even less.

Simon's face darkened as he coldly regarded Cal, and drummed his fingers on the patio table. Every time he was almost convinced that these...aliens were halfway human, something came along and screamed at him differently. "What is it about you? Is it an alien thing, or just you? What's made you so....cold and callous?" he finally said.

Cal met the look cold look head on. Few would have had the nerve to ask him anything like that. Through the years he had been many things to many people, but one thing that he always was, to everyone, was scary. Simon's question had taken guts, and guts deserved an answer. "Have you ever been hunted? Ever known that if you stop to rest, even for a moment, or that if you get caught, that death would be the least of your worries? And not just yours, but your family's as well?"

Simon's fingers stopped drumming and fell silent for a while. "My great-grandmother barely survived the Nazis. They came to her village and rounded up all the Jews. She and her brother escaped, but they saw their parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents; all of them herded into a hole and slaughtered, right there, just outside of their village. They were just little kids, scared out of their minds. So yeah, Cal, I can relate...at least to some extent," he finally admitted Cal.

Cal nodded in understanding. "So can I, so can Max Evans. Swap the Special Unit for the Waffen SS, and you see my point of view. In fact, Max knows first hand what would happen to us if we were caught. He was caught once, when he was only a couple years older than Sammy is now. What they did to him had a lot of similarity with what the Nazi scientists did to the Jews in the death camps...and they were just getting started when he escaped. So you see, he'll do anything and everything to make sure history doesn't repeat itself with *any* member of his family," Cal told him emphatically, then added, "and *I* will do whatever I deem necessary to support him in that goal."

Simon was still pondering how to respond to that when Sammy appeared at the patio door. "Hey Sammy," he said with a smile. "Sammy's a great kid and he deserves to be safe and happy. Now I just have to figure out how best to accomplish that," Simon thought to himself.

"So, you all packed, kid?" Cal asked as he puffed on his cigar.

"Yeah, I guess." Sammy replied with a shrug.

"Good. I can send you whatever else you need, or anything that you might have missed." Cal told him. "Oh, since it's noon I thought that you might like some lunch?" he mentioned as he spied his new maid/cook. He didn't really need a cook since everything tasted the same to him, but having one helped to keep up appearances when he entertained.

"Oh, okay." Sammy answered as they all entered the dining room. It felt good to be able to enjoy a nice lunch in his old home. It had been a long time since he'd had a relaxed meal at that dining table.

Cal and Simon carried on a dialog of idle chitchat, neither wanting to get into anything serious at the moment. Cal had watched in envy as Simon and Sammy enjoyed their Caesar salads. He appeared to relax back in his chair as he casually asked Sammy, "A potential investor comp'ed me a couple of tickets to that big opening at the Met
tonight. It'd be bad for business for me to be a no show, and I hate to go alone to these things. Have you got any plans for tonight Sammy?" Cal did the alien equivalent of holding his breath as he waited for an answer.

Sammy's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Uh," he began as he shifted his gaze back and forth between Cal and Simon. It was obvious that Simon had been caught off guard, and that he was none too pleased. Cal remained his cool, arrogant self. But was that really true? Cal had gone out of his way to restore the apartment back to what it had been, a home, the home that Sammy had known and grown up in. There was no doubt that much of the work had been done by some alien hocus pocus, but not all of it, especially not the retrieving of stuff from the pawnshops and consignment stores. Cal had obviously already spent a mint and he wasn't done yet. Sammy glanced back towards the hall and his room, and he thought about the painting that was hanging over his bed, about the clothes that had been washed, then neatly folded and put away. He didn't understand why Cal was doing all of this. His dad could have ordered it, but why would he do that? Sammy didn't understand Cal. One moment a monster threatening him, the next his protector, and now his...friend? He just didn't understand, but then, he didn't have to. Cal had gone out of his way to be kind to him and it was his duty to return that kindness, besides he hadn't been to the Met in almost three years. "I'm free tonight, I think, but, um, I'll need a new suit, because I'm pretty sure that my last one is like three sizes too small by now." Sammy noticed that Simon's jaw had dropped a little more.

"No," Simon replied automatically, when his brain finally managed to get his mouth working. He glanced uneasily towards Cal. "Look, I don't think this is a good idea. Not with the FBI snooping around. The less of a link that there is between you and Sammy the better I like it," Simon further explained. It wasn't his real reason for saying no, but it was still valid.

"Actually counselor, they already have that link. A lease agreement between you and me on behalf of the trust for Samuel Connor Jr., remember? If we don't acknowledge it now, they'll just wonder what we're hiding. As far as they know, I came across an excellent real-estate opportunity that just happened to be with one of the richest kids in America. And being the big shot Hollywood mogul that I am, I'm always on the lookout for new investors. Who better than little Sammy Connor? I couldn't think of anyone better, more normal, to schmooze for funding for a future project. Anyone that knows me would think it totally within my character." Cal triumphantly informed them.

Simon didn't have a clue of how to counter that.

Sammy couldn't help but grin. He'd never seen anyone put one over on Uncle Simon the way that Cal just had.

"So," Cal went on, undeterred, " I made an appointment at Ralph Loren this afternoon at 2:00 for a fitting. It'll have to be off the rack with only minor alterations but I'm sure we can come up with something suitable for this evening," he told Sammy with a sincere smile. He was enjoying himself. He'd enjoyed getting the better of Simon, and he had to admit that it felt good to see Sammy smile. The counselor was not a happy camper when he finally left after lunch. Cal had invited Sammy to stay the night since they'd be home late, but Simon nixed that. Cal had to have Sammy home by one tonight. Simon only trusted him so far, even if he was Sammy's protector. Cal bet himself even odds on Max getting a pissed off phone call from Simon, just to make sure that this was kosher with him. Simon would try for any excuse call this evening off.

~

Sammy stood in front of the mirror and frowned. They had already selected a nice suit for tonight that was off being altered a bit, and then Cal suggested some school clothes while they were here. Sammy knew that he needed some. Uncle Simon had given Uncle David money for clothes at the end of summer, but other than buying a couple of pairs of jeans from Macy's, the money had vanished. He took in the sight before him. A new button down shirt, sweater, tan slacks, and loafers, the perfect look to get you beaten up in school. "Um, I..uh, I don't think is going to make me fit in too well in Idaho," Sammy finally told Cal and that 'helpful' salesman that kept pushing this stuff on him.

Cal smiled. He had seen the rags in Sammy's closet. It was amazing that some of them hadn't fallen apart in the wash. It felt good somehow to be doing this. Looking at the image in the mirror, he had to agree. The look was just screaming for a black eye and stolen lunch money, especially in Small Town, USA. And, if he were anywhere in the neighborhood, he'd be obligated to *do* something about it. "You may be right about that," he said, then turned to the salesman who no doubt worked on commission. "Think denim, jeans, and flannel. See what you can come up with and make it quick. His suit should be just about done. Check on that while you're at it," he told him. It wasn't arrogance exactly. He just wanted to make sure that the salesman deserved that commission check he'd get later on.

During the limo ride from the store Sammy had to laugh. "Man, Uncle Simon's going to freak when he gets that bill from the store." Cal was going to pay for everything, but Sammy had insisted that the bill go to Uncle Simon.

"He shouldn't. Not when he should have seen to it a long time ago," Cal replied.

Sammy's mood soured at that. "It's not his fault. He gave Uncle David the money for school clothes. He didn't know," Sammy finished quietly.

"He should have." As much as Cal liked the counselor, he wasn't overly pleased with all aspects of his handling of Sammy's care.

"Why didn't you?" Sammy shot back.

"Your dad didn't want me anywhere near you. He didn't even want me to find out who you were. He was afraid that he'd be tempted to contact you, or to intervene if anything wasn't going well for you, and most of all he was afraid that any link to him could ultimately ruin your life. Also if he knew that I knew, then all it would take was a
direct order from him to find out who and where you were. He didn't want to the take that chance. He would do anything to protect you." Cal told him.

Sammy thought about that as the limo fought its way through rush hour traffic. "Cal, Grandpa was telling me about how he and Grandma found Dad and Aunt Isabel all alone in the desert. You're his protector. Why weren't you there?" he asked.

The Royal Protector frowned. Now Cal remembered why he shied away from working with kids. Too damn many questions all the time. "What makes you think that I wasn't there?" he told him and noted the shocked look that his response garnered from Sammy. "Think about it. When your dear old dad and auntie emerged from their pods in '89, I was already well known in Hollywood. Kids popping up would have raised suspicions. And in case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly the paternal type," he added dryly.

"Oh," Sammy replied. "So you just let them wander around the desert naked? Weren't they like six or something? What kind of protection was that?" he wanted to know.

Cal sighed. "Yep, too damn many questions," he thought to himself. "I was there, watching them. It took almost seven hours for the Evans to find them. After that I had to keep an eye on Michael, who'd promptly wandered away from the others, until he was found. It took him several days before he got close enough to civilization for someone to find him. Do you think that he survived all on his own for that long? Not likely. Besides, I had someone keeping an eye on Max and Isabel as they were ushered into human society. When I found out what kind of people the Evans were and that they were interested in adopting the kids, I thought that it was the perfect solution. Granted, Michael wasn't as lucky as your dad and aunt, but he still managed okay. And, when things got out of hand, well, I helped him out. So things worked out after a bit," Cal elaborated.

"What about my mom? Dad said that her protector...Nese....Nesado? Was there for her. I don't understand. Why was he different?" Sammy asked. He kept hoping that somehow, if his mom had been raised differently, like his dad, then things would've been different. That she'd have been different.

Cal was silent for a moment as he contemplated just how much to tell the boy. He'd explained this to Max and the rest of them years ago. He didn't relish explaining it again. It still left a bad taste in his mouth. However, he could tell that nothing, but the whole story, would shut him up. "The one that they called Nesado wasn't exactly the same as me. His DNA wasn't encoded like mine was. He was from a prestigious family. He was above it all, while I was just a lowly soldier. True, I had volunteered for the duty. At the time I was young and idealistic, and what greater honor was there, than to be sent as a guardian for your king? So I submitted to the encoding. There were four of us including the pilot. Something always struck me as odd about Nesado, but he had been put in charge of the mission. He was the boss. When we were on final approach the ship's counter-thrusters, that were needed to land, didn't fire correctly. To this day, I still believe that Nesado sabotaged them. Anyway, we came in too fast with no way to brake completely. We managed to slow enough so as not to burn up in the atmosphere, but the crash was still pretty horrific. Two died on impact with only me and Nesado surviving, along with the pods, and one of those was damaged. But it didn't take long for the US government to come calling. So we had to hurry. Fortunately, we'd sent another in advance to prepare the way for our arrival...I'll call him Eddie. Anyhow, Eddie found us just as the Feds were closing in. He helped me to escape with the Granolith, but Nesado wasn't so lucky and neither were the pods. There was nothing that I could do for Nesado, and I'm not entirely sure that I would have done anything even if I could, but I had to get the pods away to safety. It took some doing, but Eddie and I managed to sneak onto the base that they'd been taken too and, with the help of a human, we managed to get them away. Eddie helped me get them to the chamber that he'd prepared for them and the Granolith, before heading out to hide the duplicate set somewhere else. He had just gotten away when the Feds closed in again. I still had a few things that I needed to hide somewhere, but I thought it best if I did that far away from the pod chamber. It wasn't easy to do with the soldiers breathing down my neck, but I managed." Cal paused as the limo came to a stop in front of the apartment complex. He'd finish this upstairs.

Sammy couldn't wait to get inside the apartment. He wanted to know the rest. As soon as the door closed, he pounced. "And then what happened?"

Cal smiled happily. He was a Hollywood filmmaker. He loved to tell a good story. After pouring himself a brandy and Sammy a soda, he made them comfortable on the sofa. They still had a little time to kill. "I stayed away for a while, until I found out that Nesado had surfaced. I still didn't trust him, so I went back to the pod chamber and sort of tweaked things a bit. Besides, your mom's pod had been damaged in the crash and I wanted to make sure that it was still working. It was, but I thought that it might be best for it to...bake a little longer. So I set hers to go an extra month before the chemicals were introduced that would trigger the hatching process, thus ensuring that the other three would be long gone when she hatched. Her and Nesado's families had been very close and I figured that of all of them, he would be the most loyal to her. That she would be safe with him. Not too long afterwards Nesado tracked me down and explained how things were going to be. He was the one in charge and he would be there when they all hatched to, as he put it, 'take possession of the Royal 4'. And after I showed him where the chamber was, I was to stay the hell away, which I did. It was Eddie that kept an eye on things for me and let me know that the other three had hatched right on time. I made sure I was close by for the event and kept an eye on the little darlin's until they were 'found'. And a month later, Nesado was there for your mom. I know that he was furious at having only the one, and that he looked for the others for years. Of course by that time, I had recruited many helpers and made sure that he found false clues to their whereabouts that lead away from Roswell. It worked for eleven years," Cal said and wished once again that it had lasted forever. He looked at his and Sammy's empty glasses. "Here, let me get us some refills," he offered.

"So how'd Nesado find them?" Sammy asked as he sipped his fresh soda.

"Your dad miraculously healed Liz Parker when she was shot during a scuffle at her dad's restaurant. It wasn't officially reported as such, but it made the Internet sites as a possible unexplained phenomenon and happening in Roswell like it did, it was all over the X-Files type sites, which Nesado had been monitoring. He of course couldn't wait to reunite all of them and promptly made arrangements to return. And naturally, Nesado managed to bungle things up, which included getting your dad captured by the Special Unit. I was ready to come and help, my encoding demanded it, but Nesado waved me off. He knew that if I were on the scene, I would interfere with any ulterior plans that he had for your dad and the others. So I stood by...and watched..and itched to go in and get them out. I would have too, but fortunately your dad and his friends were a bit more resourceful than I had thought they were, and managed to get him free and even save Nesado's life." Cal had to grin for a moment. Max's assignment for Nesado had been poetic justice. "Max then ordered Nesado to take the place of the head of the Special Unit and shut it down, after destroying all the records that he could lay his hands on. Think of it kid, the head of the Special Alien Hunting Unit was an alien. That's when I realized that it was best for me to stay hidden in the background and let them handle things on their own, until it looked like it wasn't going to work. It was a tough time there for a couple of years, especially at their high school graduation. But Eddie or I were always close by and ready to strike, just in case. And when your dad decided to track me down, I wanted to wring his neck, but of course I couldn't," Cal finished and waited to see what Sammy's reaction was and what questions he would now have next.

"But what....what about Mom taking me back to Antar and then...what about all of that? How'd you let that happen?" Sammy finally asked.

"I didn't. Your dad did that and there was nothing I could do about it. When she came back with you, she attracted a lot of the wrong kind of attention. Hell, Eddie had to nudge a soldier's arm or he would have shot one of you as they tried to run a roadblock. I freely admit, that was one of the few times that I almost spilled the beans to your dad. I was surprised when he decided to give you up for adoption. I know that he would have done anything for you, including going to Antar to get you. He loved you enough to want what was best for you even if that meant giving you up. I know that it crushed him inside to do it. I guess that he finally grew up." Cal finished then checked his watch. "Well, we had better go get ready. We have dinner reservations at 6:00." Cal smiled at Sammy, who returned it.

~

Sammy had been to the very upscale restaurant, where they had reservations, a few times with his parents. His dad, Sam, had started taking him to a few business and social functions in that last year before they had died. Introducing him to the world that he would be expected to live in. For the first time he realized that it was also the world that Cal was a part of as well, just a bit glitzier maybe. Sammy smiled as Cal made the rounds, meeting and greeting the who's who, which included most of the patrons as they made their way to their table. Sammy received several curious looks and glances as Cal introduced him a potential backer for some movie about a western outpost he was considering.

Cal was pleased with the reactions Sammy was getting. While not many recognized Sammy, most knew his name, or rather his adoptive father's name. As they came upon one such couple, Cal was all charm. "Henry! Julie! Long time no see. How's the Big Apple been treating you?" He asked as he warmly shook Henry's hand and kissed Julie on the check.

Julie couldn't help but notice the young boy that was accompanying Cal. She thought that she knew him, but she wasn't sure. "So Cal, who's your young friend?" she asked as the possibilities quickly ran through her mind, 'special' friend perhaps? He's awfully young for that. And besides, the last she'd heard Cal favored busty, long legged blondes. Latest discovery? Possibly, he certainly was cute enough, but so plainly shy. She frowned slightly. Why did she feel that she knew him?

"Oh yes, forgive me. Henry, Julie, this is Sammy Connor, Jr., of Connor Investments," Cal clarified as he put a hand on Sammy's shoulder while Sammy shook hands politely.

"Sammy....Samuel Connor Jr.? Cal, you old dog, what in the world are you doing with Sam Connor's son?" Henry asked in surprise.

Julie mentally dug up the last time that they'd seen anything about the Connors. They of course knew his parents, and had even made some investments with Sam Sr. Then it came to her. "Oh Sammy, I'm so sorry for your loss. Your parents were such lovely people. We would have come to their funeral, but we were in the Orient and couldn't come back in time for the services. We sent an arrangement, though," at least she hoped they had. They had been such sweet people, and she remembered the pictures of their son that both Sam and Carol always had on them. That's it. That's where she'd seen the boy.

"Thank you. That was kind of you," Sammy said. He'd heard similar platitudes several times now.

Cal grinned from ear-to-ear. He hadn't thought of it, but now he saw that he should have. Sammy was the poor orphaned rich boy of high society. Everyone who's anyone would naturally have either known or at least heard of Samuel Connor Sr....and would be anxious to help out his kid. After all, they all had daughters, nieces or cousins that will need to marry into the right kind of family someday. This was definitely going to work to his advantage. "So after completing a transaction the other day with one of Sammy's advisors, I mentioned that I had an extra ticket to this evening's grand opening at the Met and invited the boy along."

"You're doing business with Connor Investments?" Henry asked with raised eyebrows. He knew that Connor Investments had a great proven track record and was currently headed up by Simon Shapiro. Simon was the golden boy of Wall Street, along with just about every other street out there. And now Cal Langley was doing business with Shapiro and Connor investments? Close business too, if Simon trusted Cal to entertain young Sammy for the evening. Maybe this project that Cal was putting together was worth taking a look at. "So Cal, be sure to send over a portfolio on your project to my office tomorrow for me to take a look at," Henry told him before the two left to finally take their table.

On the limo ride home, Sammy yawned and then smiled. "You certainly got a lot of people interested in your next project tonight," he observed.

"Yep, it's a good one." Cal grinned back.

"Funny how they all wanted to meet me," Sammy mentioned.

"Yeah, you're a nice kid," Cal gave him then chuckled. They both knew exactly what had happened. People were blown away to see the young son of the late Samuel Connor Sr. with Cal Langley, Mr. Hollywood, as he pitched his next project. Of course they were interested. Cal was certain that he'd have all the investors he needed by the end of the week. Plus they'd had a good time on top of it. As the limo pulled up in front of the apartment building Cal said, "Good night, kiddo. Give me a call to let me know where to send any other stuff you might have left behind tonight."

"Thanks Cal." Sammy said as he exited the limo and headed inside.

~

Part 19

Simon was sipping his coffee impatiently at the kitchen counter as he waited for some sound indicating signs of life to emerge from the guest bedroom. Gary had restrained him from pouncing on Sammy last night when they heard the door open and close at 12:58 AM. "At least Cal got Sammy home before 1:00. The cross examination can wait until morning," Gary had insisted last night. "Well, it's morning. When's he going to get up?" Simon grumbled.

Gary chuckled to himself as he sipped his latte and scanned the paper. Simon was champing at the bit to find out how last night went. Gary had laughed outright when Simon had phoned Max to see what he thought about Cal taking Sammy to the Met. He'd almost busted a gut when he found out that Max had known all about it already, and said that he'd left it up to Sammy to decide whether or not to accept the invitation. Gary paused in flipping though the paper when he came upon what used to be called the 'Society Page'. "Well, from what I see here, it looks like Sammy and Cal had a great time making the rounds last night," he observed with a raised eyebrow.

Simon finally saw movement down the hall as Sammy stumbled from his room into the guest bathroom. "What?" he distractedly asked Gary, who just handed the paper over to him. There, on the second page was a picture of a smiling Sammy and Cal, who looked almost gleeful. Simon's scowl deepened as he scanned the page. "That bastard. He used Sammy to lure investors' interest in some new project of his. Damn it! I bet I get a dozen phone calls today from people wanting to know more about it. Goddamn him!"

"That's not what happened," Sammy said from the hallway. "Well...okay, maybe it did, sort of, but I knew what he was doing." Sammy cringed a little as Simon raised an eyebrow. "It just sort of started happening and.... it was like a game, and I went along with it. We both laughed about it on the way home. Cal never actually said that you were investing in it. People just sort of assumed it. I had fun last night, please don't make me feel guilty about it," he pleaded as he sullenly poured some juice and helped himself to the bagels on the counter. The room was very quiet for a while as they finished breakfast.

"I'm glad that you had a good time last night, Sammy." Simon finally said as he rinsed his cup and stuck it in the dishwasher. "I called your academy and they said that you'd have to make up the work that you've missed, but that under the circumstances, they'd chalk your absence up to 'family emergency' and....."

"Why would I be going back to the academy when I'm supposed to go back to Idaho and my dad?" Sammy asked in surprise.

For some reason Simon had a hard time meeting Sammy's eyes. "I only agreed to consider it. It's not a done deal. And I'm not certain that Idaho is the best place for you." Simon heard Sammy's sharp intake of breath and he could tell that this wasn't going to go over very well.

"B-but..but he's expecting me! I don't understand. It was all set." Sammy's mind was spinning. What had happened?

"Sammy, calm down. I just... we need to think about this some more. Talk it over." He could see the defiance rising in the boy's eyes. Sammy wasn't going to budge. "Sammy, just look at what happened last night. All those people knew you, and they knew your dad, Sam. As you get older, you're going to have a lot of obligations, social, political, and definitely financial. You'll need the best education and the contacts. You're not going to get that education or those contacts in Sandpoint, Idaho. I... I'm not saying that you can't go and visit. Holidays, summer vacations, spring break, then you can go and enjoy yourself." Simon felt like a first class heel as he saw the tears gathering in Sammy's eyes. Softening his tone, he said, "Sammy, I made a serious mistake two years ago. I thought that it was best for you to live with family and that I shouldn't get overly involved, and look what happened. You went through two years of hell because of it. Now you want me to let you go and live with a family that I don't know and whom I've never met and... who aren't even human? Can't you see where I'd have doubts about the wisdom of this?" Simon admitted the truth to Sammy at last.

"You don't understand. You can't understand." Sammy sniffled and wiped his eyes before the tears fall. He stood up and walked over to the large window with the view of the park. "Do you remember the last time that you took me to dinner?" He paused until Simon nodded. "I told you about this Mom and Dad and family that I dreamed about. It's a dream that I've had for as long as I could remember. How they were out there just waiting for me. In the dream I could never see anything very clear though. Everything was a little fuzzy and out of focus. The most that I could make out was a young dark haired man, and it seemed like he was holding me, looking down at me... but the feeling I got from him... I knew that there were people out there, that he was out there, all waiting and wanting me. Loving me. I knew it. I... I know this sounds strange, but it was always the same dream with the same feeling. Holding onto it was what got me through the last two years. That young man was my dad. I know it was and.... and now you want to take that from me just as it's becoming real." He pleaded and this time he didn't care as the tears fell. Sammy hiccuped and said, "And there's one thing that you forgot Simon. You say that you don't trust them because they're aliens? Well you forgot, I'm just as much an alien too." Then he looked away.

Simon ran his hands through his hair in frustration at Sammy's last statement. He was a lawyer. He made his living by the correct use of words, and by not letting his emotions cloud his judgment. He was also a compassionate and caring man. So how had he, a compassionate, gay, Jewish lawyer managed to make himself sound like a bigot? He looked over at Gary for support. The look he got in return didn't help. How do you counter something like this? He already knew the answer, you can't. He sighed. There was nothing to do, but drag his foot out of his mouth and try again. This parenting stuff was *tough*. "I'm sorry. I won't do that, Sammy. I won't," he told the boy as he walked over to the boy and gave him a hug. "Come on, let's sit down and talk," he instructed him as he guided him to the sofa. "Okay, here's the deal. We'll go to Sandpoint this weekend. And Max and I will have a sit down to talk things over and come to an agreement. You can stay, provided that I like what I see and hear. Like I said, I made a grave mistake two years ago and I'm not about to let it happen again. Your parents might forgive one mistake, but not two." Simon paused. "I also want more from you too. I want the truth when I call and ask how things are going, not just the pat 'I'm fine' reply like I've gotten for the last two years. Agreed?" He firmly asked.

"Agreed," Sammy nodded reluctantly. He still looked rebellious and a little hurt, but at least he was giving Simon the benefit of the doubt.

"Good. And you'll still need to come back to New York every so often, you know. There are things you need to know, and people that you need meet. You're still the heir to a huge fortune and the investment firm that created it, and it's my job to make sure that you're prepared to assume complete control when you turn twenty-five," Simon reminded him.

Sammy looked a little puzzled now. "Okay....I thought it was at eighteen, though?" he asked.

Simon smiled. "Oh, you'll get quite a bit at eighteen, but not complete control, not until you turn twenty-five. By that age your dad and mom figured that you'd have graduated from college, gotten a little life experience, and that you should be ready for it. Plus, no one likes a bossy teenager," he said with a smile. "But one of the things that I want you to start doing, in the next year or so, is sitting in on some things so that you can begin to get a feel for how things work. Maybe you could take a summer internship. And you're also going to need a damn fine education. That's one thing that I'm going to be keeping a close eye on. I imagine that you'll be limited to the local high school in Sandpoint, but you've got the grades right now to get into an Ivy League university, and you need to keep it that way. I know that Sam always wanted you to go to Harvard like he did," he reminded Sammy.

"Mmm, I was thinking Yale," Sammy said with a smirk, as he subtly needled his guardian.

"Uh...we'll need to discuss that," Simon told him with groan and a friendly pat on the back, he was after all Harvard alumni himself. And Sammy knew it.

"Okay. Can I call my dad and tell him that we're coming on Saturday...right?" he asked excitedly.

"Yeah, Saturday. I'm not sure of the time. I still need to make the arrangements though." Simon glanced at his watch. Time to get to the office. "Are you going to be okay here by yourself today?" Simon asked. "I won't be home until after five." He glanced at his companion. "Gary what about you?"

"Probably later than that. I've got a couple of weeks worth of work to catch up on," Gary told them.

Sammy rolled his eyes. "I'm not a baby. I'll be fine. Maybe I'll go shopping," he suggested, smirking again.

Simon turned a little pale. "NO! Yesterday's bill for over ten grand was more than enough. Oh, that reminds me. I told the store to redeliver everything here this afternoon, so you'll need to be here to sign for it," Simon informed him.

"Okay. But can't I get some cash for take out or something?" Sammy asked in typical teen fashion.

Simon whipped out his wallet and left a couple of twenties on the counter. "Sure, just don't go too far. There's a deli around the corner and a Starbucks, a McDonalds down a couple of blocks, and here's a prepaid cell that I got you yesterday. Keep it on you." He pulled the cell from his pocket. "Have you got your house key?" he asked as handed the new phone over.

"Yeah, but if I didn't I could just.... you know." Sammy held up his hand and concentrated just a little until there was a soft glow and slight crackle of energy. He smiled impishly.

Simon's jaw dropped.

Gary answered for him with a chuckle, "Um yeah. Sammy, try not to blow anything up? We'll see you tonight. You've got our numbers?" he asked while slipping his suit jacket on and shoving Simon towards the door.

"Yeah," Sammy assured them as he followed them to the door.

Simon grabbed his jacket and briefcase as he headed out. "Right, okay. Um, I'll call you with the flight information for this weekend so you can relay it to Max.... uh, your dad." Simon gave him a quick hug and left. He made a mental note to call Sammy every hour or so today just to make sure that everything was okay... and that he hadn't like blown the apartment building up or something.

The two life mates paused before going their separate ways for the day to exchange a hug and a kiss. When they did Gary took the moment to say, "After all Simon, what can the academy teach him about his powers? You saw them. Only his family can teach him that."

Simon sighed heavily and nodded "Maybe, but if they do, they'll do it on my terms. There will be no more mistakes where Sammy is concerned... by anyone." With that they went their separate ways.

Back in the kitchen Sammy smiled as, behind the boxes of granola cereal and bran flakes, way in the back, he found the box of Captain Crunch with Crunchberries in the cupboard. See, he had been paying attention to what his little 'cousins' did after all. Adults always had something good stashed in the back. You just had to find it. And, after calling his dad, he had an enormous mixing bowl full of Captain Crunch while perched in front of the big screen plasma TV, watching the Battlebots marathon.

~

You couldn't have pried the grin off of Max's face with a crowbar. Sammy was coming home this weekend. His son was coming home, for good this time. Sammy had told him that Simon had some things that they needed to work out, but Max wasn't particularly worried. They'll work it out. He recalled the call that he'd gotten yesterday, from Simon Shapiro. He was pissed that Cal was taking Sammy out to dinner and the Met. True, Cal could be difficult, but he would protect Sammy with his life. Who could he possibly be safer with? That reasoning hadn't set too well with Simon. An hour later he was still grinning while he went about wiping down the bar.

"Ah, Spaceboy said that you were a grinning fool. And since I just came from your house I know that it's not because Liz had the baby, it must mean that Sammy called. So how's he doing?" she asked as she took a seat at the bar and plopped an order form of some sort in front of him.

"Yeah, he called. He's coming home Saturday." His smile lit up his whole being.

Maria's breath caught and she felt the tears well up. It had been so rare to see such a smile on Max's face. "Oh, I'm so glad. I know how much this means to you and Liz... to all of us! He's such a sweet boy," she told him as she gave his hand a squeeze. Clearing her throat she shoved the order form over to him. "So how many do you want?" she asked.

"Huh, what?" he queried as he looked over the form. "Girl Scout cookies? When did Megan join the Girl Scouts?" he asked as he wondered just how the Girl Scouts were going to survive a child born of Maria DeLuca and Michael Guerin.

"She's a Brownie, sort of a precursor, junior type Girl Scout. They have to sell cookies too. Come on, you're the one with the big sweet tooth in the group. So how many boxes?" she asked again.

"I guess a couple of the thin mints wouldn't hurt... hey, wait a second. Mom's already down for five boxes and Liz is down for....ten?" He looked up at her, shocked.

Maria shrugged. "What can I say? I caught her at a hormonal moment. Should I put you down for an even dozen?" the crafty scout mom asked.

"Like I'll ever get to see any of them? My house seems to be the black hole of sweets," he said with a laugh. "Go ahead, put me down for whatever. But I thought it was the kids that were supposed to sell these, not the parents."

"Right, do you think that the general public is ready for any of my brood knocking on their door? Need I remind you that Chase's teacher from last year is taking a year off for health reasons? I haven't finished civilizing them yet. One step at a time," she informed him.

Max just laughed. She hadn't even finished civilizing *Michael* yet either.

"It's good to see you laughing for a change too. Now, I'm off. If I recall correctly, mechanics love cookies. Give me a call if you or Liz needs any help with anything. Oh, and here's your newspaper." She handed him the paper as she headed into the kitchen before leaving.

Max chuckled again. Somehow he just couldn't picture Megan in one of those green uniforms... or maybe it was brown for Brownies? He shrugged and opened the paper, which he read off and on as he worked. By afternoon the restaurant was doing a brisk 'early-bird special' business and the bar had only a couple of patrons nursing afternoon brews. The after work crowd would be showing up soon, to be followed a short time later by the evening bartender. This was the lull before the storm and the bar was all ready and waiting. He glanced around, patrons had full drinks, snacks were set out, tables and stools stood ready to be filled, and he was bored. He stopped to glance at the paper again. He'd read the front section, the sports section, the outdoor and leisure section... including the fishing report, which said that there were still trout spawning. Maybe he could get a guys only weekend trip in with Sammy? He flipped over to the living section and there at the bottom of the gossip column was a blurb about Cal courting who's who of New York and... "Oh shit, Sammy got mentioned," he said to himself. The rest of the afternoon he would ponder that. Sammy was well known enough to warrant it being noticed that he was out and about with Cal. True, had he been just anybody, he probably might have been noted for just being with Cal, but the paper had specifically identified him and had even gone on to give a little background about who he was. Now he's coming to Sandpoint, Idaho. How was that going to work?

By the time that Max got home he was certain that he was going to need help with a few things and wasted no time making the call. "Hey Dad. How's Roswell?" he began.

"Good. Lots of curious looks from the neighbors, and my secretary almost fainted when I walked in the office, but other than that... good. How're things there?" Philip asked. He could tell from Max's voice that something was in the wind.

"Good... great actually. Sammy's coming home Saturday." Max still beamed every time that he thought about it.

"That's great! So everything is all worked out?" he asked. He had heard the run down Tuesday afternoon from Max, who had gotten it from Cal. And he had then gotten yet another call, just yesterday from Max about the fire at the FBI building and a tentative all clear, but he was still waiting, just to be sure.

"Uh... not exactly. That's what I think I need some help with. Simon Shapiro is bringing Sammy back in person, and... well, I got the distinct impression that he has some reservations about this... about me. I guess that I can't blame him. In fact, I'd be kind of pissed if he didn't. But uh.... Dad, Sammy's an heir to a lot of money and his adoptive family was pretty 'up there'.... you know in New York society. Aren't people going to be wondering where he is? And... what about his inheritance? I mean, he's going to need to know how to... run things, isn't he?" he asked his dad. Max was feeling way out of his depth about this.

Philip sighed. He'd already given this some thought. "Max, you don't need to worry about Sammy's inheritance. It's Simon's job to safeguard it, and from all reports, he's doing an excellent job. As for Sammy learning how to manage it, first of all he's going to need a good education. I have to say, given who Sammy is; I seriously doubt that any college is going to turn him down. His name alone will open the door for him. Of course, his having the grades, etc. to get in is going to be something that you and Liz have to make sure he maintains. And second, yes Max, he's going to need to spend some time with Simon in New York learning the ropes," he carefully explained to his son. "And as far as society is concerned... Simon sent Sammy to live with some relatives out west. The boy needed a change of pace and scenery. That's all they need to know. In fact, I'm betting that it will add intrigue, etcetera, when he does come back to work with Simon, or to go to school. Really big money operates by different rules, and a little mystery can sometimes be helpful. Again, that's something Simon will be good at handling. Don't worry about it," he reassured Max.

Max felt somewhat relieved. "Okay, but uh... Dad, I... uh, I think that it would be a good idea for me to have some legal representation when I talk to Simon Shapiro. From what I understand from Cal he's a pretty sharp attorney and... Dad, could you come back for this weekend?" he finally got out.

Philip's smile was clearly heard through the phone. "Gladly son. Let me make some calls, and then I'll call you back with the arrangements."

"Okay Dad. I'll talk to you later." He heard the sound of a throat clearing and glanced over his shoulder to see his mom holding out her hand. "Oh hold on, Mom wants to talk to you. Dad, thanks. You're a life saver," he told his father before handing the phone over to his Mom and then running upstairs to Liz.

Liz grinned the second that she saw him. "Hmm, I'd heard about that grin that they tell me you've been sporting for most of the day from a couple of people. I must say, it's nice to see for a change," she told him before being wrapped in his arms.

"Sammy's coming home," he told her, although he had immediately called and told her as soon as he had hung up with Sammy this morning. He just couldn't stop saying it or grinning. He hugged and kissed her some more before stretching out next to her. "So is Dad. I think it'll be good for him to be here to help handle any legal matters, like custody," he carefully told her.

"Hmm, you're worried that this Simon isn't going to let Sammy stay, aren't you?" she inquired, as she held his gaze.

"I think that he's not overly happy about it and that he isn't going to make it easy, but Sammy is staying.... for as long as he wants to," he assured her. He was feeling better about things. Just knowing that his dad was going to be here helped a lot. It was nice to have his help again. "So, I hear you ordered 10 boxes of Girl Scout cookies," he said with a smirk.

"Wipe that smirk off of your face, Max Evans. Maria put you and Kyle down for twenty... each," she shot back.

"What? She said a dozen!" he recalled then he laughed. She could've put him down for a hundred. He didn't care. Besides, with *that* many boxes, maybe he'd actually get a few of them this time before they disappeared into the sweets 'black hole' that surrounded his house.

~

The earliest flight that Philip could get was Friday morning into Seattle, which meant an even longer drive to Sandpoint. Normally this wouldn't have been a bad thing since he liked driving. That is, he liked driving in peace and quiet, and this drive was anything *but* that. "So Amy, if you're getting tired, go ahead and take a nap. It's been a long trip and you'll want to be fresh and rested to greet your grand kids." He cringed. "Shit, I mentioned the grand kids. Now she's never going to shut up," he thought to himself. And he was right.

"Oh, I just can't believe it. Four of them! Oh God, Megan looks just like Maria did at that age. And Chase and Ryan! They are just adorable. Did I tell you how they helped little Alex with his birthday cake and about the fight with the super soakers?" she asked him again. She had memorized every second of the DVD that Maria had sent her. The pictures were already framed and hung in her living room, with copies in her wallet, and the drawings and cards adorned her refrigerator. And now she was going to go see them, and her daughter.... and son-in-law! She was so excited that she just didn't know what to do with herself. Oh, the kids were going to be so surprised. She couldn't wait. "Do you think that the kids will want to see the pictures of Maria and all of them?" she asked as she opened one of the dozen or so albums that she'd brought with her. This one was from when Maria was about twelve, and was just getting into that boys and bras stage.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure that they'll love them. And the stories Amy. The kids loved it when we told them stories of when their parents were young and about all the stuff that they'd gotten into. Absolutely loved it. And it'll be fun for the kids to see the pictures that go along with the stories," he told her with a smile. He had so much that he still wanted to tell Sammy about, and he'd brought a few pictures himself, plus the picture CD's and DVD's that Diane had insisted he bring along. Philip laughed to himself at the thought of the grand kids knowing all the shenanigans that their parents had gotten into growing up.... well, maybe not all, but enough. "Damn, it feels good to have grand kids!" he thought with another chuckle as Amy continued her own meandering down memory lane for the next two hours.

~

It was almost dinnertime and Max and Michael had just gotten home from work when the car pulled up in front. Michael watched as Max ran out to greet Philip as he got out of the car.... there was someone else in the car as well. His mouth dropped open in surprise as he recognized her. He glanced over his shoulder to the kitchen where he could hear his wife directing Ryan on how set the table correctly. "Uh... honey? Uh, Mr. Evans is back and... uh...." he didn't get a chance to finish.

Chase came running to the window. "Grandpa Evans is back and... hey, who's that with him? She kinda looks familiar... kinda like Mommy, only old.... and with darker hair." A crash in the kitchen distracted him. "Mom, you okay?" he asked a little worried.

"OH! MY! GOD!" When she heard her oldest son's description, Maria had dropped the plate in her hand as she ran to the window. All it took was one look and she screamed, "MOOOOOOMMMMM!" Arms were thrown wide as she ran out the front door.

Michael looked at the chicken burning in the skillet and decided to stop by KFC for take out tonight as he turned the burner off before the pan caught fire. "Maybe I'll work some extra shifts for a while. Let Max have some time with the family," he thought as he heard the crying and laughter and chaos approach. He didn't have a chance and he knew it. "Hi Amy. It's good to see you," he said when she finally let go of the kids and Maria long enough for him to get a hug in. That was about all that he got a chance to say for the rest of the night as Amy and Maria ran a talking marathon, with Megan cutting in whenever the two of them remembered that they had to breathe.

~

By Saturday afternoon Liz thought that she might have to knock Max out. He was driving her and everyone else around him nuts as they waited for Sammy, Simon, and Gary to arrive. "You're doing it again," she told him from her perch on the sofa.

He turned to look at his wife. Boy, she's certainly in a mood today. And not a very good mood either. "Wha...." he started to ask.

"Pacing. You're pacing again, and if you don't stop... so help me, I'll... I'll..." she actually didn't know what she'd do, but the threat was very real.

"I'll... uh... I'll go for a walk." He'd finally come up with what he decided was probably his safest option. To be as far away from his loving wife and soulmate as possible for a little bit.

"Arrgghhh!" Liz finally breathed out as the front door closed.

"Tell me about it," Isabel observed from the kitchen doorway. "I've seen caged tigers at a zoo with less tension. He needs a distraction.... or a straight jacket."

"Hand me the phone," Liz commanded, and she hit the speed dial the second it was in her hand. "Hey Maria. I need a favor. No, no, I'm fine. No contractions. When Max gets back I need you to do something for me..." She felt pretty good when she was finished, it would keep Max safely occupied...in a non-pacing mode, and there was a big plus in that it would give Maria some free time to spend with her mother.

Max walked around the block a couple of times before he thought it might be safe to return home. "Hi honey," his once again loving wife greeted him with upon his return, and for some reason that unnerved him.

Ryan, the lookout, was on the job. "Okay, he's back," he announced to his co-conspirators, and they got the ball rolling.

Max had resumed pacing in front of the living room window, waiting for the rental car to show up. He checked his watch again and then looked back over to his wife, sister and mother who were all watching TV and simply ignoring him. Dad had gone to the bar an hour ago, saying something about checking out the new tap. He looked back out the window and noticed that Ryan and Chase were tossing a football back and forth on the stretch of lawn that adjoined their properties and that Megan was heading towards his house. The door simply popped open a minute later.

She wore the saddest face that she could muster. The tears were just starting to pool. "Uncle Max. Chase and Ryan won't let me play football with them. Will you come out and play with me?" she asked with wide crestfallen eyes.

Somewhere there were violins playing. There had to be. No way could anyone refuse that look or that sniffle driven plea. "I... uh.... I'm not sure now is a..." he couldn't, not to that little face. "I guess...okay," Max finally got out as a little hand tugged on his to hurry.

"Max, your jacket," Diane reminded her son and smiled when he grabbed his old one. The one that she had conveniently left on the coat hook by the front door while Max had been taking his walk.

"C'mon Uncle Max. Let's show them!" Megan triumphantly told him as she dragged her uncle outside. Mission accomplished. Another Academy Award winning performance.

'SPLAT!' Isabel watched as Max launched the football, and Megan caught it, just as Ryan and Chase, striking from opposite sides, took him down. "What is it about mud that boys of all ages find so irresistible?" she asked the living room full of women. They all just shook their heads as outside Uncle Max made a touchdown before being knocked down face first and piled on by his two nephews.

"Liz owes me a box of Tide for this," Maria commented to her mom, as they observed the action from her own living room window. "It's a good thing that Alex is down for a nap, or he'd be right out there in the middle of it," she said and shook her head as Megan pounced on her oldest brother after he caught the football. And just to make it all that much more fun and messy, a light rain began to fall.

~

Simon wasn't much for small towns or the outdoors in general. His idea of roughing it was a comfortable ski lodge in Aspen. This town was...well, it was no Aspen, although it did supposedly have some pretty good winter skiing, and trout fishing in the summer. He missed the city already. Gary drove them to an area of modest older homes. Someplace like where his grandparents had lived upstate. They stopped in front of a two-story home at the end of a cul-de-sac. It looked... okay. Directly ahead of them there seemed to be some sort of football game being played out in the grass and mud. Simon shook his head. His mouth dropped open as Sammy excitedly jumped out of the car and greeted the one adult that was playing in the mud with the kids with "HEY DAD!". Simon looked over at Gary. "He's kidding, right?" he asked.

Gary grinned. He was more into sports and the outdoors than Simon was. "Nope. That's Max Evans all right, and those would be the 'cousins' that Sammy spoke about," he explained with a chuckle. "Come on. Time for you to meet Dad." He chuckled with delight.

Max was wet and muddy, and he didn't give a damn. He wasn't ready to let go of Sammy for anything. It took several minutes before he loosened his grip and stood back so that he could get a look at his son. "I'm getting you muddy. You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Looks like some game you had going there," Sammy observed as he glanced over at his mud-spattered cousins and gave them a grin.

"Yeah," he told him as Ryan, Chase and Megan now mobbed their returning cousin. He watched the jubilant reunion for a moment then went to shake Gary's hand and introduce himself to Simon. Turning back towards the kids he announced, "Guys.... guys, and gal, I think we should head in. The rain is starting to pick up and I don't want to hear it from your mom about how I let all of you get sick. Besides, I'm sure that Grandma and Liz want to see Sammy."

Chase was horror-stricken. "But.... but you can't do that! No way can we lose a football game to a... a... girl!" In answer to which Megan promptly stuck her tongue out at her brother and walked proudly back towards their house.

Max shrugged then laughed. "Sorry about that guys. Maybe next time Sammy can help you out," he told them as everyone headed home.

~

Part 20

Sammy had barely made it in the door before he was wrapped in someone's arms and was being squeezed so tight that he could barely breathe. "Hi Aunt Isabel," he managed to get out between gasps for air.

"Isabel, he needs to breathe," Diane reminded her daughter.

"Oh...oh, sorry." Isabel said as she let go. As she was backing away a little she noticed all the mud. "Oh, gross."' She cast a disapproving look towards her brother. "What is it with guys and mud?" she tried asking a member of the male gender.

Max just shrugged and grinned at his now muddy sister. He was simply too happy to rise to the bait.

"I'm sorry, Aunt Isabel," Sammy said as he turned five shades of flaming red from embarrassment.

She glared at her brother for a moment longer before turning her attention back to her nephew. "Don't worry about it, Sweetie. For us it's not a big deal," she told him as she casually ran her glowing hand down her front and then down Sammy, banishing the dirt and mud. "See, no problem," she assured him with a smile.

"Hi Sammy," Liz called to him from the sofa.

"Hi Liz," Sammy responded as he headed over to give her a hug.

Liz sat up a little more and threw her arms around him for a good hug. "Welcome home," she whispered in his ear, then pulled back a little to get a good look at him. She brushed at his bangs. "Hmm, I think you need a hair cut before starting school," Liz told her stepson with a grin.

"No way! This is the *in* look," Sammy insisted as he returned the grin.

"Uh-huh, sure. We'll see," Liz told him.

"Okay, I've been pretty patient, but now it's my turn," Diane informed everyone as she pulled Sammy into her arms and planted several kisses on his cheeks.

While his mom was getting reacquainted with her grandson, Max introduced Simon to everyone. "I am glad that you could come out here, Simon," Max told him in a tentative manner as he gestured to make himself and Gary comfortable in the living room.

Simon had remained pretty quiet while he took in everything. From the warm greetings Sammy got by everyone, to the clean and well kept, though modest, home. Not to mention Isabel cleaning up Sammy and herself. He was aware of alien powers intellectually, but he still wasn't used to being confronted with them in action. And he wasn't really sure what to think of that mud football game earlier, but so far so good. "Thanks," he said as he took a seat in a chair. He watched as Sammy made a point of sitting next to Max and Liz. An uneasy silence took hold, as no one knew exactly what to say.

Isabel looked around at everyone. The growing silence and tension was nerve wracking. "So Sammy, we've been busy getting your room all fixed up. Do you want to see it?" she asked in an effort to create a distraction.

"Uh, sure," he replied and rose to join her.

Diane watched her daughter and grandson head upstairs for a moment then turned back to her son. "Max, I think that the rain is letting up some. Now might be a good time to bring Sammy's things in," she suggested.

Max turned his attention from where his son had disappeared to look at his mom. "Right, yeah, that sounds like a good idea," he agreed and looked over at Gary and Simon to see what they thought.

Gary was watching Simon, who was watching everyone else. He could tell that Simon still had some reservations, but there was no missing how much Sammy was welcome here. "Sounds good to me. He's got a lot," he concurred and rose to his feet as he silently urged Simon to go along with it. It would do no good to argue, since there was no reason for Sammy to stay in a motel with them.

Simon was still debating it when Gary unceremoniously gave his ankle a slight kick, prompting him. "Sure," he finally agreed.

Max's jaw dropped as they popped trunk. He looked at the car again, a Lincoln Town Car, then back at the trunk. It was totally stuffed with suitcases and boxes. "They must have paid one hell of an airline luggage surcharge," he thought as he started pulling suitcases out. "This is all of his?" he asked Gary as they carried the first load into the house.

"Yep, when Cal took him out, they did some shopping," Gary informed him. "You should have seen the bill that Simon got the next day!" he said with a laugh. "I thought that he was going to have a stroke."

"I can only imagine," Max replied as they headed upstairs to Sammy's newly redecorated room.

~

"Okay, what do you think? Now, your dad and I had a... discussion... sort of. I thought that a warm buttercup color on the wall would contrast nicely with the green in the quilt. But Max, being his normal boring self, insisted on plain old white," Isabel told her nephew. With Maria working on the nursery, with Liz's input, Isabel had taken on the job of getting Sammy's room up to par. In addition to fresh paint, she had insisted on some new furniture. After all, Sammy would need proper drawer space for his things, and a new headboard to match the new dresser and chest. A budget conscious Max had been reluctant at first, but Mom had finally taken her side and told him that she and Dad wanted to make it a gift to Sammy. He still put a $500 cap on it though, which meant that they ended up getting unfinished furniture. A little alien magic had made fast work of the finishing job. In fact, it was finished, then refinished, and so on a couple of times more. She still didn't understand what was wrong with the antique white finish. Medium oak was so ho-hum in her opinion. Her gift for his room was a new bedding set, including a very nice warm quilt. It was her way of making up for unwittingly putting her brother on the spot about money. She knew that Max and Liz were watching their finances carefully with the new baby on the way and all. Their medical insurance was going to cover only so much.

Sammy looked around. It seemed... nice. He was pretty certain that the furniture was new, actually everything looked new. It made him feel special to think that they went to all of this trouble, just for him. "I like it," he told her with a smile. "But, uh, buttercup?" he inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"Here, I'll show you." Her hand glowed as she touched the wall. "See how that goes with quilt," she said, rather pleased with herself.

"That's...that's..." Sammy didn't know what to say.

Max walked into the bedroom and immediately took in the surprised and uncomfortable look on his son. He glanced to where Sammy was looking. "Isabel, turn it back. I told you, no yellow," he reminded his sister.

"It's not yellow, it's buttercup," she retorted in annoyance.

"Iz, no. No yellow. Boys don't do yellow. Change it back," he told her firmly. He gave her a warning look on his way back downstairs for another load of stuff.

"Sammy?" Isabel asked for confirmation... thereby putting her nephew on the hot seat.

"It's...uh...it's a ...little... yellow," Sammy finally admitted. He was uncomfortable being put on the spot like this by his aunt. He hadn't had a chance to get to know her all that well before he'd had to go back to New York. But he did know that he didn't want a yellow wall.

"Oh," Isabel said in surprise and with just a little hurt. She had thought that he'd love it. She made it a point to hold her head high as the wall turned back to white. She wasn't sure what to do after that. She could tell that Sammy didn't either as his hands slipped into his front pockets, something that her brother did when he didn't know what else to do with himself. She'd managed to make him uncomfortable in his first fifteen minutes home. She sighed. It was time to try something else. "So, I thought that maybe you might need to get a few things for school. We could go do a little school clothes shopping tomorrow afternoon if you want," she offered.

"Oh... um, Cal took me to Ralph Lauren and Tommy Hilfiger's shopping last week. Oh and the Gap. So I think I'm okay," he told her. She obviously had gone to a lot of trouble already, working on his room and he didn't want to cause her any more work.

"Cal took you to... oh... okay. Well, I'm glad that you're all set," she said in a quaking voice. As tears threatened, she quickly fled the room. Sammy obviously didn't need her help.

His sister ran past him in the hall as Max was coming down it with more boxes. "Iz?" he called out, but she didn't stop. Wondering what the hell had happened he headed for his son's room. "Sammy, what happened?" he asked his son, who was looking almost as upset as his sister.

"I'm not sure. She offered to take me shopping for school. All I said was that Cal took me shopping already and that I was all set for school, which I am. I didn't mean to get her so upset," he told his dad with confusion showing in his eyes.

Max dropped his load then sat on the bed with his son. "Sammy, Isabel loves to shop and decorate. Taking you shopping was her way of sharing something with you. Her way of getting to know you, to sort of bond with you," he gently explained.

"Oh, I didn't know that. Maybe I should go talk to her?" Sammy asked.

Max smiled. His boy had a big heart. "I think that would be a nice thing to do. She's probably still downstairs." He looked around for a moment at all the luggage and then over to the furniture. "You know, it was her idea to get new dressers and stuff. She told me you'd need them and looking at the results of your shopping trip with Cal, I'm glad that I listened to her. You know the other thing she's good at?" he asked his son and paused a moment before continuing, "Organizing. She's great at organizing things."

Sammy looked around his room at the chaos of boxes and bags, then he gave his dad a quick smile and ran downstairs to find his aunt. He located her in the kitchen pouring a cup of coffee with her back to him. "Aunt Isabel?" he said plaintively.

She knew he was there. She had heard him coming down the stairs. She took a few deep breaths and ran a quick glowing hand over her face to repair the tear damage to her makeup before turning around to face him. "Yes, sweetie?" Isabel responded with a wavering smile.

"I... uh... I was wondering... um, with all the stuff I got with Cal...um, I don't think I'm going to be able to fit it all in the space I've got. Do you think that you could help me organize things and put them away?" Sammy asked sincerely. He hoped that his dad's suggestion worked.

"Oh...OH!" Isabel exclaimed as her mood soared immediately. "Sure. I'd be happy to," she told him as she tried to control her enthusiasm. She was overjoyed to be needed.

"Great! Um, you know, I'm probably am going to need to go back to New York for... stuff occasionally. Maybe you could come with me sometime and... well, I'm probably going to need summer clothes and stuff," Sammy said hesitantly, feeling a little shy. He was confused again when his aunt started to sniffle as she hugged him tight. "Aunt Isabel?"

"Nothing, sweetie. Come on, let's go figure out where put everything and get you settled," she said and smiled through happy tears this time.

When Max returned with the last of the Sammy's stuff, he noted the vast improvement in both his sister and his son. Isabel was chatting merrily away with Sammy as they went through the various items, sorting and organizing things. He smiled at the two and left them to it. When he got back downstairs, he found that his dad had returned and was talking to Simon.

"So when would be a good time for us to get together and discuss a few things?" Philip was asking Simon as his son came back downstairs and sat down. Philip immediately clapped a firm hand on Max's shoulder as a sign of his support for his son.

Simon hadn't been aware that Philip Evans would be here, but he really wasn't overly surprised. A lawyer of Evans reputation and caliber wouldn't let a family member walk into a situation like this unsupported, not while he had breath in his body anyway. "Tomorrow morning would be fine. Maybe at the restaurant before it opens?" Simon suggested.

Philip looked at his son, who nodded in agreement. "That's fine. Say 9:00?" he countered.

"Fine, that will be fine." Simon looked around at the room for a moment. He heard some laughter coming from upstairs that sounded like Sammy. He glanced over at Liz for a moment, and she gave him a friendly, warm smile. He hear Diane in the kitchen and he could smell dinner cooking. He was pretty sure that it was pot roast. "Well, I think we should get going to the motel," he told them.

"Oh, you and Gary are very welcome to stay for dinner," Liz offered.

"No thank you, that’s very generous of you Mrs. Evans... may I call you Liz?" When Liz smiled and nodded he continued. "As I said, thank you, that roast does smell good. But we'll be okay. And besides, I think that we could all use some... quiet time. I'll see you in the morning," he told them. He wanted to give them some family time, and he needed some time to process what he had seen, heard and felt. Sammy was called downstairs to say good-bye for the night before they left.

~

"What do you think?" Gary asked Simon as he drove to the local motel.

"They're nice," Simon said.

"And?" Gary prompted.

"They appear to be a nice middle class family," was the most Simon was willing to say at the moment. He still had some thinking to do.

~

The rain had stopped, so after dinner Philip suggested he and Max go for a short walk to settle their meal, and perhaps work a little of it off. Most of all though, he wanted to discuss tomorrow with his son. "Max, I want to get some idea of exactly what you want to get out of tomorrow's meeting," Philip told him.

Max automatically stuck his hands in his pockets as they walked and talked. "Sammy. I want Sammy here with me."

"Under what circumstances? How much are you willing to give up to get him?" Philip asked. "If I have to bargain, I need to know how much wiggle room I have."

"I'd make a deal with the devil if I had to. Dad, I've already lost him twice before. I won't do it again," Max honestly told his father and attorney. "I've gotten the impression from Sammy that Simon has some issues about me. About 'us' in general."

"I don't doubt that." Philip stopped and looked seriously at him. "Max, Simon's job is to safeguard Sammy's best interests and the Connor fortune, and he's already made a serious error in judgment once. He won't allow himself to make another one," he told his son and began walking again. "Expect him to know all about your past, about the arrest in Utah, your school records, who you kissed in fourth grade, the works. Because of Cal's efforts to muddy the waters, Simon probably doesn't know as much about the last fifteen years, but he probably has a pretty good idea of your current finances. He'll want to be certain that you can support Sammy adequately," he pointed out.

"I don't want his money. Not a dime." Max was adamant. "Sammy is what's important, not his money."

"Max, let's be frank here. You can't even come close to giving Sammy the lifestyle that the Connors did, or even that Simon and Gary could," Philip responded. It was time to be brutally honest with his son. It was the only way to prepare him for tomorrow.

"Money isn't everything," Max finally said. He was prickling over the implication. He made a good living. He provided for his wife and he would do so for his children.

"Max, I'm extremely proud of you, of all of you. You've all attained so much and under such difficult circumstances. I couldn't be prouder. I'm not trying to belittle you or your accomplishments, son. I'm just trying to give you an idea of what Simon is probably thinking," Philip explained sympathetically. "So tomorrow, be prepared for him to grill you on your finances," he continued after his son nodded. "Don't be offended if he insists on you taking some sort of child support." He held up his hand as Max was about object. "Now listen. It's his job to make certain that Sammy has everything that he needs. So expect it. And I suggest that you take it." He could see Max was turning red with anger. "It doesn't mean that you have to spend it. Open an account and put it away. Give it back to Sammy when he turns 18, or set up college funds for Michael and Maria's brood. There's no reason that you have to keep it a secret from Sammy. He knows that you love him. I just don't want it to become a major sticking point. Remember, legally Simon has custody and he doesn't have to do anything. He's here strictly as a courtesy to his client and ward. Do you understand?" he asked.

Max didn't like it, in fact the look on his face said the he *really* didn't like it, but he nodded in assent.

"Okay. Next item. Sammy is going to need to spend time in New York, probably a good part of the summer, maybe over spring break as well. And, an occasional weekend here and there." He watched his son's reaction carefully.

Max was quiet while he thought it over, then he nodded. "Fine, but not the whole summer. I want some time for vacation. I want to take him to Roswell and show him where I grew up, maybe show him Carlsbad Caverns or the Grand Canyon," he told his dad. "Oh and holidays. I want him for the holidays," he added. Holidays were for family.

Philip nodded. "That's reasonable. I don't think that Simon will object to that. Now let's move on to health. He'll want Sammy covered by some sort of health insurance."

"He won't need it, but I can add him to our policy. I had to get it for Liz," Max said in agreement.

"He'll probably want to double check the coverage, but that should work. Now... education. This could be a sticking point. Sammy is the heir to an immense fortune and Simon is going to do everything in his power to make sure that Sammy is ready to take full control of it when the time comes." Philip was truly concerned over this one.

"Dad, how much is he going to inherit?" Max asked out of curiosity.

"According to their web site, Connor Investment has assets of a little over a billion dollars, with Sammy having a controlling interest," Philip told him and had to pause as Max came to a standstill.

"A BILLION?! Dollars?" Max was floored. He'd had no idea.

Philip chuckled a little at Max's reaction. "That figure was Connor Investment's total assets, and not Sammy's personal net worth. I did some checking and from what I can tell, I would estimate that Sammy's annual income is between ten and twenty million. I'm guessing that a good portion of that is reinvested, either back into Connor Investments or other opportunities, such as real estate, bonds and securities, and the like. From what I can tell Simon's doing an excellent job as chairman of Connor Investments and overseeing Sammy's personal finances," Philip reassured his son. "The man is one of the best that Wall Street ever produced, and from what I can discover he's honest to the core.

Max's mind was still reeling. "So how much is Sammy worth, personally?" he asked as he tried to get a grip on this.

"Well, it's only a guess, but I'd say somewhere between $250 million and $500 million. So you can understand Simon's unease at letting him live here with people who are, to him, relative strangers," he said.

"Good God! I had no idea," Max admitted as they resumed their walk.

"I know, son. I was rather stunned at first too. So you can understand why Sammy's education is so important. He's a smart boy. As along as he applies himself and keeps his grades up, he shouldn't have any problem getting into any Ivy League University that appeals to him. My bet is on Harvard since both Sam Connor Sr. and Simon are Harvard alumni. I imagine Harvard would welcome him with open arms. His name alone will open the door," Philip said with more than touch of pride. The thought of his grandson attending Harvard put a smile on his face every time it occurred to him.

Max started to smile. "Harvard, eh? Yeah, that'd be good. That was Liz's dream.... to go to Harvard. She had to give it up because of me. Somehow having Sammy go to Harvard... it helps a little. Maybe his little sister or brother will follow in his footsteps," he added hopefully.

Philip kept grinning too. It was a wonderful hope... no, a goal. "You know Max, your mother and I would be delighted to help with our grandchildren's education," he assured him. "Let's get back to tomorrow, though. As long as Sammy's grades stay up, and he takes the classes that he needs to prepare him for college, I don't think Simon will object to his staying here on the score. But, if they slip or the curriculum isn't up to par, he may insist on a private school or even a boarding school," he warned.

"Dad, I think the only option in town is the public high school," Max told his dad.

"Then it would be boarding school." His son frowned at that. "Max, the best way to avoid all of this is to make sure that Sammy fully understands what's at stake," Philip soothed.

Max nodded in understanding. "Okay, what else?" he asked.

"Max, just remember that you both want what's best for Sammy. That's the goal here. Come on, let's head back. It's getting cold now," Philip told him as he zipped his coat all the way up.

~

Max looked in on his son when they got back from their walk. He was in his room trying to figure out where to hang a poster. He looked around and couldn't find a bit of evidence of the all the luggage, just a few boxes of personal stuff. He knew if anyone could get a room situated with record speed, it was his sister. She didn't disappoint. "Looks good, Sammy," he told his son.

Sammy spun around at the sound of his dad's voice and gave him a smile. "Thanks. And you were right. Aunt Isabel is great at organizing and she can't wait to go shopping with me this summer in New York."

"Shopping in New York? Oh man, you don't know what you're in for," Max teased his son.

Sammy smiled for a moment longer before turning serious. "What happens next?" he asked.

Coming all the way into the room, Max sat on the edge of the bed. "Tomorrow at 9:00 at the restaurant, I, along with my dad, and Simon will sit down and iron out the custody arrangement," he told him. He wanted to be honest with him at all times.

Sammy bit his lip and frowned as he sat next to his dad. "Just the three of you?" he inquired.

"Well, I think so. I don't think Gary is going to come. Why?" Max asked. Not sure where his son was going with this.

Sammy tried not to get upset. "I... I just thought... I mean you told me once that I would have a say in things and... well, I'm not even included in meeting about planning my own future," he said to his father in a voice tinged with disappointment.

"Oh," Max said for lack anything better. "I guess..." He wasn't sure what to say and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "Sammy, I'm sorry. Everyone is trying to figure out what's in your best interest, but no one has thought to include you in it. I... I'm sorry," he finally got out. "So, do you want to come?" he asked his son. He had doubts about the wisdom of this. While what he said was true, he wasn't sure this was a good idea. He hoped for the best, but he didn't know for certain. Some things might be said that he wouldn't want Sammy to hear if he and Simon got into a.... disagreement. But Sammy was right. He should have a say in things.

Sammy saw the indecision and reluctance on his dad's face, but he had no such misgivings. "Yeah, I want to be there," he firmly told his dad.

"Okay. Then you should get to bed early tonight," Max told his son and gave him a hug.

~

Gary was stretched out on the bed in his boxers, channel surfing. He glanced over at Simon, who was still dressed and hunched over a file folder. "What are you reading?" he queried.

"Hmm?" Simon looked up for a moment. "Oh, Max's police record from Utah."

Gary sat up at that, "His what?"

"He was arrested, along with Elizabeth Parker for robbing a convenience store in Utah back in '02. The charges were dropped against Max for lack of evidence, and against Liz on a technicality. There were reports of a gun being involved, but it was never found," Simon told him matter-factly.

"Was this after they went on the run?" Gary asked. He just couldn't picture Max, and certainly not Liz, robbing anything or anyone.

"Nope, before. They were just starting their senior year of high school," Simon told him while still reading through the rest of the report.

"But... I just can't picture either of them doing something like that. I got the impression they were both good kids. Why'd they rob a store? And in Utah?" Gary wondered out loud.

"Oh they were good kids. Among the best I'd say. Liz could have been accepted at just about any university and Max had a shot at quite a few. It's too bad they didn't have the chance," Simon commented as he waved his hand towards where their high school transcripts lay. "I can't find any reason for the robbery. No money was taken."

"Maybe it was alien related?" Gary offered.

"Maybe. I'll find out tomorrow. One way or another." Simon confidently replied as he made another note on the pad of legal paper that contained his list of questions for tomorrow.

"Simon, remember this is what Sammy wants," Gary reminded him after a while.

Simon yawned and stretched. It had been a long day. "I remember... but he gets it on my terms," he stated, then put the files away and got ready for bed.

Part 21

~

The next morning Philip followed his son and grandson into the Out of the Way Bar and Grill. It was a little before 9:00 and the restaurant was still closed, but he could see the kitchen and dining room staff prepping for the Sunday morning brunch crowd. He'd been surprised to see Sammy ready to go with them this morning. He had some misgivings about this turn of events. Like his son, he wanted to protect Sammy from any unpleasantness that might come up. Yet, at the same time, he understood that Sammy had cornered Max with his request, and there really wasn't a graceful way to back out of it. You could only protect children for so long and from so much. Something Philip understood all too well, through painful experience. Besides, with Sammy present Simon would have to tread a bit more lightly. He hated that thought even as it occurred to him. The idea of using his own grandson as a negotiating tool wasn't something that he cared for very much, even if it was unintended. He sighed a little as they headed into one of two banquet rooms. Then Max left them to tell to the part-time manager to have a tray of coffee and water brought in.

Sammy took a seat at the end of a table in the banquet room while Grandpa sat off to one side. "Grandpa, are you sure that it's okay for me to come? I mean, shouldn't I be here for this? It's my life," he asked while they waited for his dad to return. He had noticed how surprised Grandpa had been this morning; once it was obvious that Sammy was coming with them.

Philip gave Sammy a warm smile as he pulled out a pen and legal pad. "It's fine, Sammy. And you're right. You should have input on your own future," he told him as Max wheeled in a cart with coffee, water, and what looked like some scones.

"The chef was just taking these out of the oven and insisted we give them a try," Max told them. He doubted that he would be able to get one down though, too much acid churning around in his stomach.

Simon walked in with Gary and froze when he saw that Sammy was there. He shot Max a glare. This was not good. Not good at all.

Gary looked at Sammy and then to Simon, and decided that he couldn't get out of there fast enough. "So Max, I hear that your bar is the place to be for Sunday football in this town. I thought that I might check it out," he said with a smile.

"Sure thing, Gary. We don't open until ten o'clock, but I'll get you all set up for the pre-game shows," Max told him with a slight grin. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that Gary wanted be far, far away from what was going to happen in this room.

While Max was gone for a few moments, getting Gary situated, Philip ushered Simon into the banquet hall where he naturally took a seat on the opposite side of the table from Max and his father. Simon had covered it well since he'd first walked in, but there was no mistaking the loop that he'd been thrown for by Sammy's presence at the meeting. Philip made small talk with Sammy and Simon while they waited for Max's return.

Max returned a few minutes later and closed the door behind him. He had instructed the staff that they were not to be disturbed, which had raised a few eyebrows, but they all held their tongues. He poured himself a glass of water and took a seat next to his dad, and across from Simon. Sammy sat at the end of the table, in between the two parties. "Good morning Simon. I hope the motel was comfortable enough," he greeted him then took another sip of water.

"Fine. It was fine," Simon replied and glanced over at Sammy. "Well, I guess that we should get down to business."

"Okay," Max said warily.

Simon pulled out an accordion file from his bag and withdrew some manila file folders. "I understand from Sammy that he wants to stay here with you, and I'm willing to allow it, but before I do I need to know little more about you." He waited a moment until Max nodded in assent. "All right, so let's start with your criminal record. Why did you and Liz rob a convenience store in Utah when you were still teenagers? It obviously wasn't for the money." Simon glanced at the contents of the folder that he had open. "The police report that I have says that you didn't take any cash." Simon stated while being careful to avoid looking at Sammy. He knew that Sammy wasn't going to be happy about him questioning his biological father this way, but "damn it He shouldn't be here in the first place," his psyche screamed as he locked eyes with the man, the alien king sitting across from him.

Max controlled his facial expression carefully. He was really glad that his father had warned him of what to expect. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his dad starting to make notes. Then he met Simon's canny and demanding eyes head on. "We... I... I was looking for something."

"What?" came Simon's expected response.

Max glanced over at Sammy for a moment and gave him a reassuring smile. He had sensed that the question and the tone in which it was asked had provoked anger in his son, but he also saw the surprise and interest. His son wanted to know as much as Simon did, if for different reasons. There was no way to avoid answering. He turned his attention back to Simon. "A spacecraft. I was looking for a ship, my spaceship. The one that I brought to this planet on," he said evenly.

Simon wasn't sure of what to say to that. Gary had warned him it was probably alien related. He just didn't think it would be this...alien related. Simon reverted to a look of bland skepticism. "In a convenience store? Did you find it?" he cautiously asked.

"Yes," Max said. "The store was a government front. It was there, underneath the store in an underground storage facility. Somehow the government had put in back together." Max replied with just a hint satisfaction.

"What did you want it for? What did you do with it?" Simon chanced.

Max glanced and Sammy. "I needed a spacecraft." Max's demeanor soured a little. "As for what I *did* with it... nothing. Someone...well, I found out later that it was one of Cal's hired lackeys, called the cops. So I didn't have time to... see if it worked or not. We had to run. We got caught, and our parents were called. There was a hearing where the charges were dropped against me. Eventually the charges against Liz were dropped too," Max finished, as the memories of the panic and worry over Liz being jailed... and for his son who was apparently in trouble and was clear across the galaxy on another world. He took a deep breath and exhaled as he glanced at Sammy. "But he's not now. He's right here with me, where he belongs.... and he's staying," he reminded himself.

Simon paused to study his younger 'opponent' and did some math. Given Sammy's age, what he knew of Sammy's mother, and the timing of the incident, it was pretty obvious what Max had wanted that spacecraft for. To recover Sammy. Simon felt a certain awe at the boy's courage. A typical teenager with an ill conceived plan, he'd been willing to set out in an untested ship, that had already crashed once and which he didn't know how to fly or navigate, to a planet that he'd never seen, in the face of unknown numbers of hostile enemies, to retrieve a son that he'd never laid eyes on. Looking at Max as if for the first time he noticed his body language with regard to Sammy. If nothing else, Simon was sure of one thing. Max loved his son. His train of thought was broken when Philip Evans spoke up.

"May I add that that was *not* a fun collect phone call to get," Philip said dryly, trying break the things up and lighten the mood a little. Simon had been looking too serious for Philip's comfort.

Simon chuckled a little. "I can only imagine. Okay, I guess that explains that." He turned back to his stack of files and closed the top one. He opened the financial one. "Max, I've pulled your financial records. And I have to tell you frankly that... well... I'm a little concerned. This business of yours is doing well. And I can see modest monthly draws for you and I assume your partner Mr. Guerin, also there are two smaller ones for a Ms. Ramirez and a Mr. Valenti," he looked up at Max for a moment with a an eyebrow raised in inquiry.

A knot was forming in Max's stomach. He felt sick at just how easy it was to find all that information about him and his private... or so he thought, financial records. He nodded. "Kyle and my sister, Isabel. They both own a small interest in the restaurant and I, Michael, and Isabel own a small interest in Kyle's auto shop," he explained.

Simon nodded. "Ah yes, I was wondering about that. Both businesses seem to be financed by a private capital loan from a Galaxy Investments. They also loaned you the money for all your personal property and your home mortgages. I was quite curious about any investment group that had a policy of making personal *and* business loans to the same clients. I had to peel back several layers of intermediaries and holding companies before Langley's name turned up," Simon told him with a touch of pride. Cal had gone to great lengths to cover his tracks in assisting Max and his family, and if Simon hadn't already had a pretty good idea of who and what to look for, he would probably still be twisting in the wind in search of Max's financial backer. "So, Cal financed everything. How very generous of him," Simon couldn't help but remark with a bit of smugness.

"It was a good investment. *We're* a good investment. We're paying him back with interest and on time. Ahead of schedule in fact," Max bristled.

"Uncle Simon, it...that doesn't matter..." Sammy cut in. He didn't like this. He was proud of his dad. He had a nice home, a neat restaurant and bar.

"It's all right Sammy. Simon's only doing what he thinks he has to, to protect you. Go on Simon," Max instructed. It wasn't easy though.... having your life scrutinized in front of your son.

Simon absently scratched the back of his neck. He could tell that Sammy wasn't happy with all of this. Simon wanted to know exactly what Max Evans was about, but he didn't particularly want to alienate Sammy in the process. He decided to change tactics somewhat. "Actually, you're right. Both businesses are turning a tidy profit and have a growing cash reserve. Tell me Max, are you planning on expanding the bar or restaurant in the next 12 - 18 months?" he inquired.

Max blinked in surprise. "Uh, no, not at this time," he replied.

"Hmm, well, then I would suggest you and Mr. Guerin increase your monthly draws a little. Give yourselves a raise. Cash like that shouldn't just sit in a bank account. You should be investing it, either back into the business or some other venture. Something that turns a higher profit than simple interest on a savings account," Simon paused, then went on, "and don't be afraid to enjoy a little bit of it either. After all that's what you're working for in the first place. Right?" he asked, trying to sound warm and friendly. "I could give you some ideas if you'd like," he offered. "After all, at heart, what I really am is a glorified investment counselor."

"Um, thanks... that would be great. Thanks," Max said. Simon's turnabout had thrown him off balance slightly.

Philip repressed his urge to smile. He was here for his son, but he was a professional lawyer too, and a damn good one. The skill with which Simon had changed horses in midstream had excited his admiration. It was obvious to him that Sammy's presence was putting a choke hold on Simon's courtroom instinct to pounce on his victim in cross-examination. "God, he must be terrifying in an actual courtroom," Philip thought. He made a note to talk to Max about his finances and the ideas that Simon had suggested. Simon was a known Wall Street shark, if he smelled blood in the water, then it was a good idea to look into it. All the same, he was damn proud of his son.

Simon cleared his throat. "We can go over a few ideas that I have that may work well for you later on." He paused as he looked back at his notes. "Even *with* a raise in your draw, I would still feel better about Sammy living here if you received... say five thousand dollars a month in child support. I realize that's a tidy sum for you, but in all honesty it's pocket change when compared to the lifestyle that Sammy is normally accustomed to."

Philip put a hand on his son's forearm. He knew Max was grating on this. He could feel it. In Max's shoes he'd have been insulted himself.... however, as his son's lawyer he didn't have that luxury. He gave Max's arm a squeeze that got his son's attention. He reminded him with his eyes of their conversation of last night.

Max's narrowed eyes blazed with anger as he looked over at his dad. His father's eyes were steady and strong, and they spoke volumes of the need to remain calm and focused on what was important here. He swallowed his anger and gave Dad a nod before facing Simon again. Pride was something that he couldn't afford right now, so he bit back the retort, asking whether Simon was talking the abused and tormented lifestyle that Sammy had suffered these last two years, that was on the tip of his tongue. "Fine... but it goes into a separate bank account, in escrow... and that's where it'll sit. Sammy can have it all back when he's eighteen," Max managed to get out, once his jaw unclenched.

Simon wasn't entirely certain what to think of that response. It was a new experience for him to be dealing with someone who didn't want Sammy's money. "That's fine. I'm just trying to make sure Sammy is well provided for and while I can see that you do provide for your family, that family will be growing by two almost immediately. That is going to put a strain on your finances. I just don't want Sammy to go without," Simon told him as calmly as possible.

"He won't. I'll make certain that he has everything that he needs," Max told him emphatically, placing a slightly higher stress on the last word.

"And Diane and I will make certain that he has a few things that he doesn't need, but wants anyhow. That's what grandparents are for, and we plan on playing the part to the hilt. You can count on that," Philip added in.

Max could have kissed his dad at that moment. He'd forgotten how good it felt to have his dad's support. It made him wish once again that he had given in to Isabel's wishes and told Mom and Dad their secret all those years ago when they were young. How different their lives might have been. At least his children would be able to share their secret with their grandparents from the very beginning. "You and Mom are going to spoil them rotten aren't you?" he accused his dad with a twinkle in his eye.

"Damn straight," Philip agreed and gave his grandson a wink. "Now, is that issue settled?" Philip asked Simon, anxious to get this moving along.

"So, five thousand dollars a month. You'll let me know what bank and account number to make the fund transfers to?" Simon asked and received a reluctant nod in return. "Good, good, now on to physical custody. Providing his education doesn't suffer any set backs, Sammy will remain here during the school year and with me during his summer vacation for an internship," Simon stated simply.

Max shook his head. "Not for the whole summer. I... we want to take a summer vacation. Maybe back home to Roswell, Carlsbad Caverns, and the Grand Canyon, that sort of thing. A kid needs time to be a kid. He'll be an adult soon enough," Max countered. He'd had to grow up so fast in high school. He wanted something else for his son. His dad kicked his leg to get his attention, and when he got it, Dad nodded over to Sammy. Sammy was frowning. "That is... if that's okay with Sammy?" Max asked his son, suddenly uncertain.

Sammy looked up when he heard his name. He hadn't liked being ignored. "Yeah, I... yeah, that's okay, Uncle Simon?" He looked over at his other dad's best friend.

Simon was on the spot now. "I suppose that a few weeks wouldn't hurt too much. Sure, we can work out a schedule. There will also probably be a few weekends and such where he'll be needed in New York," he added. This time he made it a point to wait for Sammy to nod in agreement as well as Max.

"As long as it doesn't interfere with school. Sammy's going to need to work on keeping his grades up if he's going to go to Harvard," Max stressed.

"Yale. What's wrong with Yale? Or maybe Stanford?" Sammy defiantly responded.

Simon chuckled. "We'll have to have a long talk about that. About Harvard," he restated firmly but his mouth turned up just a tad at the corners. They went over other issues. Max would add Sammy onto Liz's medical plan, but reiterated that it was best if Sammy never had to use it. There was no telling what might turn up on a medical exam. Max made no claim on Sammy's estate. Sammy was to maintain a 3.8 GPA or better in college prep classes or he faced the possibility of boarding school, on that Simon was adamant, and Max eventually agreed. Max got Sammy for Thanksgiving and Christmas, but agreed that he could go skiing with Simon and Gary over New Years in Aspen. In the end, Max promised to make sure that Simon was appraised of how Sammy was doing a least once a week and in return Simon agreed not to butt in too much unless he felt that it was really warranted.

"Dad? Can I ask something?" Sammy inquired.

"Sure," Max replied, curious.

"Well, I... uh, I was wondering. Um, people talk in a small town, and... well.. won't they be wondering where I've been all this time?" Sammy asked as he remembered the nosy bank tellers from last week.

"You tell them that you were living with family in New York. They really don't need to know more than that," Max told him. He'd learned how to be tightlipped about his origins at a very early age.

"But they'll want to know why. Shouldn't we have a... standard reply?" Sammy pointed out.

Philip heard his son sigh. He was well aware that Max didn't like explaining where he came from, even if the story couldn't include aliens. "You could tell them that your parents were too young when you were born and you went to live with family in New York. Your guardians passed away recently and you came home to live with your dad. You don't owe anyone any more than that," Philip told him. It was best to include as much truth in a story as possible. It was easier to keep track of that way. There were fewer inconsistencies to trip you up.

When Sammy looked at all three men in turn he saw that they seemed to be in agreement. "But won't they wonder why my last name is different? I... I was thinking... Samuel Evans-Connor doesn't sound *too* bad and I could just go by Sammy Evans when I'm here. There'll be less questions that way," he reasoned. He held his breath as he watched his dad and grandpa.

Max's mouth dropped open in astonishment. He was still adjusting to the possibility that he was going to get to finish raising his son. Having his boy carry on his name, in any form at all, was more than he had even dared to hope for or contemplate. Max looked to his dad, whose look said the same thing. Sammy was the only son, of an only son, of an only son. He would be the only one to carry on the Evans name for this particular branch of the Evans family tree, for Max was almost certain Liz was carrying their daughter. Max had to clear the lump from his throat before he could speak. "Sammy, you have no idea how much that would mean to me, to us... to all of us." A he finished speaking Max heard his dad doing some throat clearing of his own.

Sammy turned hopefully to his lawyer. "That would be okay, right? I mean it wouldn't take too much to do, would it, Uncle Simon?"

Simon wasn't overly thrilled with the prospect of altering Sammy's name. He was Samuel Connor Jr., his best friend's namesake. He was reluctant to change that. But... that look.....God, how do you say no to that silent plea? "I suppose that it could be arranged," Simon said gruffly as he relented. "I'll... uh, I'll include it with the paperwork." He sighed. Sam would have hated this, but it seemed so important to Sammy, and to the Evans, and it probably would make things a bit easier to handle here locally, he reasoned. They were almost done now, but there was still one other issue that Simon still wanted to know about. "Max, about Cal... he... he's not like you." He wasn't sure exactly what he was asking.

Max shook his head slowly. "No, he's not. There isn't a human cell anywhere in his body, but he wishes more than anything that there were. He wants to be human, to experience everything that we can. He tries but... well, he's had a setback or two and only limited success," Max carefully explained.

"But is he... safe? I mean you didn't have a problem with Cal taking Sammy out for the evening, but I saw him..." Simon stopped himself and glanced quickly to Sammy. "I saw him display his... powers. They were... scary to say the least."

"I had fun with Cal. And he went out of his way to fix the apartment up almost exactly the way Mom had it. He didn't have to do that," Sammy put it defensively. He was developing a soft spot for Cal.

Max took a sip of the coffee that he'd poured himself as things had begun to wind down. "I'm glad that Cal was good to you, Sammy. Cal is full of surprises. I'm never entirely sure just what to expect from him. Rarely is he happy to hear from me, because that usually means that he needs to take action. That means risking his life or his lifestyle. But, that aside, one thing that I do know is he's always had my back, even when I wasn't aware of it, before we actually met." He gave Simon a firm look. "He'd never let Sammy come to harm. I trust him with Sammy's life." Max reassured them. "But I'll be the first to admit that he can be rather.... difficult."

Simon still looked uncertain, but there wasn't much that he could do about it. So he just nodded, not in agreement, but simply in acceptance.

"Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm sure that Diane and Liz are anxious to hear how things worked out," Philip said as he checked his watch.

"God, I totally forgot. Mom is planning a sort of Sunday football thing for everyone. Michael and Maria, their kids, Amy, Kyle, Izzy, and us." Max looked over as Simon began shoving file folders back into his satchel. "And you and Gary," he added.

Simon looked at him and blinked. He was surprised and... touched by the offer. "I should probably get these notes written up and e-mailed to my assistant so that he can process them and get the documents FedEx-ed out to us tomorrow afternoon," he explained. Besides that, Simon didn't want to intrude.

Philip gave Simon a friendly smile. "I doubt that they're going to take all that long. It's actually a pretty basic custody agreement, with no contesting parties, and it's not even noon yet. They should only take you a couple of hours to clean up at the most. Besides, according to my wife this afternoon was for family and friends, and I'm sure that she would be hurt if you two didn't show up. Isn't that right, Max?" he asked his son.

"Yep. Mom said to make sure that you two came home with us," Max said as he backed up his dad. "And I still take my mother's orders seriously." He exchanged grins for a moment with his dad, and then looked over at Simon. "So, when are you and Gary planning on leaving?" he asked as they started to make their way out of the restaurant, after dropping into the bar to collect Gary.

"Wednesday. I figured that we'd have the paperwork back by Tuesday, and then we get it signed and notarized. I'll make you an extra copy that you can use to register Sammy in school out here, along with a copy of his school transcripts, and take the originals with me to file with the courts. You should have the official papers in a few weeks," Simon explained as he cast a raised eyebrow in Gary's direction. His life partner was looking rather flushed. He wondered exactly how much cheering Gary had been doing for his beloved Giants. "You've been drinking again," he accused when they got in the car with Simon behind the wheel.

"Uh-huh. Hurry up man, the Giants were winning, and I don't want to miss anything," Gary told him. "How'd it go?" he finally asked although he already had a pretty good idea from all the smiles he saw on the Evanses.

"He's staying here. We get him in the summer for all but three weeks. Oh, and he's going skiing with us over New Years." Simon filled him in on the rest as they drove. Simon was feeling a lot better about Max, but all the same he was glad that he'd have a few more days to observe things. He wanted to see how Sammy interacted with everyone, and they with him. He also wanted to see how Max worked with Sammy and his powers. He was curious to see just how powerful Max was compared to Sammy, and especially when compared to Cal.

~

Liz watched as their cars pulled up and could tell from the happy grins that things had gone well. "Well? What did everyone decide?" she asked anyway as soon as they all walked in the house.

Max gave Sammy a small shove. It was his news to tell.

Sammy grinned and walked over to Liz. "I'm staying. If you want me to," he shyly told her.

"Come here, you!" Liz said with her arms outstretched. Sammy didn't hesitate and was quickly engulfed in her embrace. "Welcome home, sweetheart," she whispered in his ear. After one more good-squeeze she released him and looked at him again for a moment. "Hmm, so when do you start school?"

"Oh, I..." He turned to look at his dad for an answer.

"Sometime this week or maybe Monday?" Max answered with a shrug.

"Good. You have time to take him to Supercuts. Max, what was the name of that barber...the one that does the good buzz cuts?" Liz asked and then burst out laughing at Sammy's horrified response.

"You're joking," Sammy accused Liz. "She's joking, isn't she?" he asked his dad, slightly panicked

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that she is," Max reassured his son. He turned at a knock at the door. He was almost knocked flat by a herd of little people rushing in. The kids immediately pounced on Sammy, anxious to greet their cousin and to make sure that he was staying this time. The football game was turned on, and snacks and sodas were made available. As family and friends gathered around the noise level increased as various conversations were held. Kyle arrived with an ice chest full of sodas and some local micro brews for the non-aliens in the family. Max took a seat next to Liz with Sammy sitting on the floor in front of them.

Megan had latched on to Sammy the second she'd walked in and remained sitting next to him. "So, are you staying or do you have to go back to New York?" she asked.

"I'm staying. I don't have to go back until next summer," Sammy told her.

"Cool. So you gonna take us trick-or-treating this Friday?" Megan asked.

"Huh?" Sammy replied in confusion.

"Momma said that you were," Megan informed him.

"Oh," Sammy said and all eyes turned to Maria for an explanation.

Maria turned a light shade of pink. "Uh... well... um, you see... I thought that you might like to sorta help me out since I need to stay home and answer the door, and Michael is working and.... and..." Maria continued to stammer for a little bit.

"That sounds like fun," Sammy said as he finally took pity and decided to rescue Aunt Maria. He saw Aunt Isabel come in with a lady that he had never seen before.

"Sammy, come on. You have to meet my grandma." Megan tugged at his hand until he followed her. "Grandma Amy, this is cousin Sammy. Sammy, this is my Grandma Amy," she said proudly. She felt important and grownup to be making the introductions.

Amy looked at the boy in surprise. She had learned that Max had a son from Liz's journal and she could certainly see the strong resemblance, but she hadn't realized that he'd be so...grown. She had to grin at her granddaughter. Megan was trying to sound so grownup. She was still grinning when she looked at Sammy again and instead of shaking his offered hand, she hugged him tight, a hug that he returned after getting over being startled by it. She backed away at little and simply couldn't resist. Her right hand went to his cheek and gave it a good pinch. "He's adorable! Just Adorable!" Amy proclaimed loudly.

"Oh no, not another one," Sammy groaned as his cheek was pinched again. Everyone just laughed. When he finally could free his cheek from its punishment, he snagged a couple of sodas for himself and Megan, and returned to sit on the floor in front of his dad and Liz to watch football. During a commercial break he looked at his dad for a moment. "Hey Dad, when are we going to get my puppy?" he asked.

"We can check the papers and see what kind of litters are for sale. Maybe check the pound tomorrow. What kind do you want?" Max asked.

"I'm not sure, a retriever or a spaniel, maybe? It doesn't have to be a pure bred," Sammy answered with a shrug.

"You're getting a puppy?" Megan asked from her spot next to her cousin. They had been sharing some pretzels that she'd snitched from the snacks.

"Yeah, Dad said that I could when I came back," Sammy informed her. He wasn't sure what to think of that determined look that she was suddenly sporting.

"Mommy said we couldn't have a puppy 'cause they don't get along with aliens," Megan recalled. "So how come you can?" she wanted to know.

"Oh... I... uh... Dad?" Sammy looked up to his father again for help.

"Megan, they... uh, as little aliens get bigger, puppies start to like them," Max lamely explained. Maria was not going to be happy about this. He knew that the kids had wanted a dog and Maria was steadfastly against it. She had enough to clean up already, she would flatly state. He watched his little niece stand up, plant her hands on her hips, and march over to her dad, who was totally engrossed in football and oblivious to all other the happenings in the room.

"Daddy. Daddy. Can I have a puppy? Uncle Max said that it was okay since we got older," Megan told her totally distracted father.

Max's mouth dropped open. He had said no such thing! Maria was going to clobber him.

Michael looked over at his daughter when he felt the tug on his shirtsleeve. "What?" he asked, and then turned back to the TV..... the Ravens were driving. "GO! GO! GO! GO!" he yelled at the TV screen.

"DADDY! Can I have a puppy?" Megan asked more forcefully.

Michael had no idea what his daughter was talking about, so he did the only thing that he could think of.... that would let him watch football unmolested. "Go ask your mother," he told her. He was relieved when she promptly marched away.

Liz looked over the back of the sofa and spotted Maria with Amy, Isabel, and Diane in the kitchen, all deep in conversation. She bit her lip as Megan walked up to Maria. She already knew how this was going to play out. Maria was just as distracted and a few minutes later Megan was marching back over to Michael.

"DADDY! Mommy said I should ask you. Can I have a puppy?" Megan asked her dad. She frowned when she got no reply. She waited until he sat back down after the touchdown. "DADDY! DADDY! DADDY! MOMMY SAID TO ASK YOU IF I COULD HAVE A PUPPY! DADDY! DADDY!" she demanded his attention, and an answer.

Michael looked at the TV, then his daughter, then the TV. "Shit! Did you see that? Total off sides! Why aren't they calling it? What are the refs, blind?" His daughter started that "daddy, daddy, daddy" bit again that had only one goal, to annoy, and it didn't fail this time either. "What? Okay. Sure. Whatever," he finally replied, and then went back to football. He figured that he'd find out later what he'd just said okay to.

Megan was immediately running around as if on a sugar high. "I'm getting a puppy. I'm getting a puppy," she sang.

"What? No way. Mom said no," Chase reminded his little sister. Besides he had wanted one too and he was older.

"Nuh-uh. Mom said to ask Daddy, and he said okay," Megan told her brother, and then stuck her tongue out at him. Chase returned the gesture.

Amy was just coming in with fresh dip when she witnessed this exchange. "Megan! Chase! Stop that. I see any more tongues sticking out and I'll go get the cayenne peppers!" she told her grandkids.

Max looked over at them. "Uh, Amy... that won't really hold much weight with them. They love hot peppers," he pointed out the novice grandmother to aliens. Actually he'd seen them put cayenne on their breakfast cereal.

"Oh...oh, right. Fine. Well, then we'll just make it soap instead. Now, behave!" Amy completely adored all of her grandchildren and lavished them with love, attention, and a few toys and things, but she wasn't going to let them get by with bad behavior.

"I'm getting a puppy," Megan reiterated a little more softly this time so Grandma Amy wouldn't hear.

"Are not!"

"Am too!"

"Are not!"

"Am too!"

"Are not!"

"I am too, and I'm telling Mom that you're picking on me!" Megan said as she turned and stormed off into the kitchen.

"MICHAEL GUERIN GET YOUR ALIEN A...ER...BUTT OUT HERE!" thundered in from the kitchen a few minutes later.

Michael froze. He looked over at Kyle and then at Max for help in telling him what he had just done.

"Uh, I do believe that you just told your daughter that she could have a puppy," Kyle informed the doomed father and husband, and then he took a slug of beer.

"MICHAEL!"...... bellowed a little louder, if that was possible.

Michael looked over at Max and wondered how bad it would be if he just didn't go in there. He figured that Max could heal most things, so he was relatively safe. Wasn't he?

Liz could almost read his mind. "Michael, cast iron skillet, remember? And she knows where I keep it," she told her best friend's husband, and bit her lip a little harder so she wouldn't laugh until he was out of sight.

It was half time now so Michael went to go and meet his doom, which led him outside, away from the game and out of shot of little ears. The remaining adults tried not to laugh too hard. After all, the kids were still in the same room. Kyle busily checked the different channels to see what other games were on. "Hey Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders," he announced and left the channel there.

"Cool. Hey, that blond on the end...are those real?" Sammy unthinkingly said aloud to a suddenly silent room. Sammy looked around when he noticed how quiet it had become and realized that it was because of what he'd said. "Uh...sorry," he offered while blushing.

Kyle looked over to father, then the son, and then back to his father for a moment. Breaking into a grin again, "So Sammy. Have you ever given any thought to Buddhism?" he asked as he popped some beer nuts in his mouth.

Sammy was confused by the question. "Um, no."

"Well then, you and I will need to spend some time together. I have some... literature that you might find interesting," Kyle said with a sly grin.

"Kyle Valenti! That literature had better not have Busty Biker Babes as a title. I will NOT allow you to corrupt MY nephew!" Isabel threatened.

"What? You think I would...he's a kid," Kyle tried to play it off.

"Just remember that!" Isabel reinforced the threat.

Sammy looked up at his dad, trying to figure out if he was in trouble or something. Dad just gave him a lopsided grin and a wink before Liz smacked him on the chest.

"Max Evans, you're the parent, not just one of the guys here," Liz reminded him. "And if you happen to forget, just remember that I can zap you into remembering." She paused ominously. "Not to mention what Isabel will do."

"Yes Ma'am," Max replied contritely as he kissed her. While he wouldn't be overly happy with Kyle if he shared some men's magazines with Sammy, he also remembered being that age, and a certain occasion when he and Michael had sneaked some off of the rack at the local 7-11.

Simon just took it all in. He could see that Sammy was getting that big loving family that he'd always wanted as well as all the complications and relationships that went along with it. It should be quite a change for him. As the afternoon wore on, the Giants won, Megan was told that she could have a kitten instead, Kyle promised to keep Sammy's virtue intact, and dinner was various delivery pizzas. It had been exactly what Max had told him it would be, a day for football, family and friends. He and Gary bid their adieus early, since Simon still had some document drafts to write up and send off.

~

It was a little before midnight when Max looked in on his son, who was sleeping in his own bed for the first time. Sammy had been using the twin in the nursery so Philip and Diane could have the queen in his room, but tonight they had decided on a motel room and a little privacy. For the first time, it was just he and Liz, and their son. The room certainly looked like a teenager's room. There were clothes on the floor, band posters on the wall, a drink glass on the bedside table, and Sammy was snoring lightly. Max gently closed the door. His son was home. The feeling he got when he thought about it, that it was really real, was indescribable.

Liz rolled onto her back and watched her husband get ready for bed. She could actually feel his smile even though his back was turned to her at the moment. It had been a good day. Her husband came to bed and hovered over her for a few moments before kissing her soundly. As their lips finally broke apart her hand went to his cheek and she gazed up at him fondly. "I don't think that I've ever seen you this happy," she softly told him.

Max smiled. "Only one other time. When you became my wife," he told her and kissed her again. He lay down beside her, his head resting on her breast. His hand slipped down her side until it came to the edge of her nightgown. He gently raised her gown until

Move Along - just a dup. post.