Aidan sat back in his chair and looked at Isabel with his best, guidance-counselor-y expression.

"When I got to school this morning, I found that the previous guidance counselor had flagged your file, among several others. Apparently, he... or she..." Aidan didn't know the previous guidance counselor, but that shouldn't affect the lie he had concocted. "...thought you weren't taking classes up to your potential. I thought, perhaps, I should take over where the previous guidance counselor left off and have a conference to discuss your academic future." Nodding -- and really getting into the roll (Aidan was surprised how easy it was to try and help people do better... if only he didn't have ulterior motives to worry about, this job wouldn't be that bad!) -- Aidan looked up to see if he could gauge her reaction. He couldn't. Falling back on typical guidance counselor questions, he asked, "So, Miss Evans, I think the main question to be asked is where do you see yourself when you graduate, and how can West Roswell High help get you there?"

Aidan hoped desperately -- while not letting it show on his guidance counselor expression -- that Cordelia would show up soon. If they were going to complete this plan, they had to hurry, before Isabel said something like "I'm not going to college, I like my classes, now get out of my life."

Cordelia returned Xander's hug and then turned in the direction of the guidance office, hoping that she would remember the route correctly. On her ways towards the office she walked by a bathroom. Cordelia was not one to miss out on an opportunity to "freshen up" so she quickly hustled inside. After making sure her makeup was perfect and her hair was acceptable she pushed open the bathroom door and continued the walk to Aidan's office. Hopefully he would excuse her for her tardiness.

Forgetting to knock when she arrived, Cordelia opened the door and immediately said "Hey Aidan!" Alarms in her head started to go off as she saw Isabel Evans seated in front of Aidan's desk. She was supposed to be discreet! Attempting to cover up her mistake she pointed blankly at Aidan's nameplate and said "...Mr. Aidan O'Shea I see. What can I do for you...or what can you do for me?"

Taking a seat next to Isabel and she turned to look at the girl, pulling out her trademark "I don't want to be here but, hey, I'm friendly" smile. "Nice shoes" she commented. It was never too early to start a friendship.

[Oh, sh...oot] Aidan censored his thought quickly so it wouldn't show on his face. But how the h... in the world could Cordelia have done such a thing as call him by his first name in front of Isabel. Maybe this hadn't been such a smart plan after all. But Isabel didn't jump up and scream at them, calling them frauds or anything, so maybe she just hadn't noticed. It was a slim hope, but it was all he had right now.

And there was another little part of him that was disappointed Isabel had been so distracted by Cordelia's entrance that she hadn't answered his question. So much for this session of guidance. [What are you thinking?] Aidan asked himself. [It's not like this is your real job!]

Exhaling slowly, Adian stopped his mental conversation with himself in it's tracks and tuned back into the conversation the girls were having without him.

Isabel watched the entrance of the other student, with a amused look. Her, rather bad in Isabel's opinion, attempt to cover up the fact she knew the guidance officer, was actually funny. Although they hadn't been introduced, she guessed this was Cordelia. And if it was the same 'Cordelia' that Harmony mentioned, then Isabel could tell just from looking at her, the 'Queen of the Popular Clique' just oozed off her. The girl had confidence and it impressed Isabel.

Isabel quickly glanced at her shoes, before replying. "Thanks. Isabel, she said holding out her hand. As far as Isabel was concerned being friendly would be the easiest way to find out if these people, as nice as they are, were threats to her and her friends.

"Cordelia" Cordelia said pleasantly, returning Isabel's handshake.

Putting on his confused-teacher/counselor face, Aidan babbled, "Oh dear. I didn't realize you would both show up at once. I thought the office would call you one at a time. This will be a little more difficult..."

He picked up some papers and handed them to the girls. "These are some surveys. I plan to give them to all the students I counsel so that I know how I can help you more... er... helpfully." He picked up two pencils and handed them to the girls along with the papers. Then he started searching for something on his desk. He wasn't really searching for anything, but he gave a good impression for not being able to find it.

"Oh my," he said a second later. "I seem to have left my... I need to run to the teachers' lounge and get something. Why don't you girls begin filling out those tests, and I will be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail." Aidan nodded at them both and then walked quickly out the door.

Cordelia stared blankly at the survey Aidan had handed her before he had scurried out of the room. Was he serious? She actually had to do *work*? Sighing, she remembered that her task was to befriend Isabel. Which didn't seem like it would be too much trouble. The girl seemed nice, someone who Cordelia would have tried to befriend even if she wasn't being pressured by her group of demon hunter friends.

Once outside and a few feet away from the door, Aidan leaned against the wall and sighed. He didn't know which was worse, having to act like such a complete moron just then, or the fact that it had come so easily to him.

*****************

Buffy kept a straight face for about three seconds, and then burst out laughing,"You mean that you and Aidan, are supposed to be a couple?" she asked giggling. She stopped at the hurt expression on Willow's face,"I'm not laughing at you, Will. See my expression. Seriousity. Serious Face, thy name is Buffy."she said trying to look innocent."Back to work," she said promptly," What's the deal here?"

Willow tried to give Buffy a fierce glare, but she just couldn't stay mad at her best friend. "Yeah, back to work, right-o." Turning serious for a minute, Willow said, "Well, this town's going through the usual symptoms of a new vampire nest: strange disappearances, corpses with bite marks and tearing around the shoulders and neck, etc. But what's *really* weird... I mean, even weirder than your run of the mill vampires... is the bizarre healing that happened in the Crashdown Cafe last year. This kid, Max Evans, and his friends have been involved in one crazy thing after another, starting with the incident at the Crashdown when Max supposedly healed a waitress named Liz Parker from a fatal gunshot wound to the stomach just by placing his hands over her wound for a few seconds. Then there was another "healing" at last year's Crash Festival involving a masked man, a car accident and a student - and friend of Liz Parker's - named Maria DeLuca. And that's just the beginning of the weirdness." Willow handed Buffy a packet of papers detailing all the weirdness in Roswell over the past year or so. "Xander came early to scout, remember? Well, he made up these packets with all the info he could find on the weird stuff: the shooting, the healing, all the disappearances and everything else. You should look though it, get familar with the prime 'suspects' and stuff. Oh, and say hi to Xander while you're here, OK? He's missed you - and the rest of the gang - a lot over the past few months, when he was all alone up here on scout duty."

"Well I'll be sure to go over to where he works..." she looked down quickly at the papers she was holding," Oh, the Crashdown. I'll go over this afternoon to talk and catch up with him. Healings, huh? Well this all seems to center around this guy Max Evans. He's the one I'll try to watch. Him, and his miracle girl, Liz Parker. Maybe I can get their schedules from Aidan and have him put me in some of that groups classes." Buffy sighed," Been in town for two hours and already hard at work. So what's going on tonight? I heard some tourists on the bus rambling on about some festival. Do you think our guys will be there?" she asked Willow.

After taking a few moments to get himself together, Aidan walked back to the teachers' lounge to check on Buffy and Willow. Luckily, no actual teachers had decided to come in there yet. He walked in just in time to hear Buffy's last question.

"We would assume so, Buffy," Aidan said, coming over from the door to sit down with them. "This festival is one of Roswell's biggest events, along with the annual UFO convention every spring. We decided that we will all go to the festival and try to keep an eye on the suspicious element." Aidan's gaze jumped to Willow. "Have you told her about Tess Harding yet?"

Willow shook her head. "No, we hadn't gotten to that part yet. Would you like the honors, sweetie pie?" Willow winked at Aidan, fully enjoying this bout of teasing over the whole 'girlfriend' thing.

****************

Michael noticed that Harmony was drawing something and tried to get a closer look. He was surprised to note that, aside from being very good for a quick sketch, it was of a young girl fighting some kind of boogy man monster. Michael wouldn't have picked Harmony as the type to enjoy drawing such a horrific scene. That sounded more like something that Michael himself might draw. He grinned, nudging Harmony's arm gently - careful to get her attention without bumping her so hard that she messed up her drawing. "Interesting picture," he said with a smirk. Then his 'attitude' faded away for a moment and he added, "You draw really well." Unable to help it, he had to raise an eyebrow and add at the last second, "For a chick."

Harmony had been ready to offer Michael a thank you for his opinion, when he threw in the chick remark. Throwing him a look which was part disgust and part amusement, while rolling her eyes, she glanced back at his work.

"And you seem to have mastered the art of cartoons. Not bad for a male."

Harmony said it with a smile, letting him know that she was returning his comment in kind. "I find this," she said while indicating her sketch, "sort of therapeutic."

Michael nodded, remembering long nights spent locked away in his room with his sketch pad while Hank rampaged around the trailer, drunk off his ass and screaming obscenities. His drawing had been like a security blanket in a way. It might have started out as just a way to figure out what the dome he was dreaming about really was, but it had become one of his only joys. Even now, when he had his own place and didn't need something to take his mind off his problems as much as he used to, he still loved to pull out his sketchbook and draw. Harmony was exactly right. It was therapeutic. It calmed him down when nothing else would.

But he couldn't exactly tell her that, now he could he? Not without sounding like a poster child for domestic abuse. And he didn't want Harmony's pity. He liked her, much in the same way that he liked Liz, only things with Harmony were much less complicated since she didn't know about his non-human status. Somehow, even though he could take one look at Harmony and know that she came from a family with money and power, the exact polar opposite of him, he still knew that they were alike. Neither of them had many friends that they could really trust. Neither of them had a loving family, or, in Michael's case, a HUMAN family. Neither of them had a real home. Yes, they both had places to live, but that's not the same thing as a real home.

Michael didn't know how he knew all of this about Harmony, but he just did. He could see it in the way she held herself and the way she kept most people at arm's length. He could see some of his own defense mechanisms in her, even though she was much more polished at it than he. In some strange, insane way, she was kindred.

But yet again, he couldn't really say that aloud either. He'd just sound like he was insane or something.

Trying to come up with something he COULD say, he blurted out, "Have you heard about the Crash Festival? It's a big deal. Everyone will probably be there."

Michael felt like smacking himself upside the head. He didn't even like the Crash Festival and, most years, he avoided it like the plague. He was only going this year for two reasons: a) the whole group was going so that they could keep an eye on Tess and b) Maria would be there, and if her costume this year was anything like last year's, he wanted to be around to fend off all the hordes of guys who'd probably wanna mob her. Nobody got to "mob" Maria but him. It was a rule.

But now he'd just semi-invited Harmony along, which wasn't the smartest move he could have made. He'd already given Liz the "no new friends in the group" speech about Harris a week ago, so breaking that rule with Harmony would make him a class A hypocrite. However, he couldn't un-say what was already said. So he'd leave the ball in Harmony's court and see what she did with it.

***************

Amy frowned after Liz, hoping she wasn't too upset. For a teacher she didn't really like in a subject she hated, Liz sure was taking this rather hard.

Amy pondered going to tell Aidan what she'd learned about the disappearing teacher, just in case he hadn't heard it through official channels. She gathered her things and then remembered the plan with Isabel and Cordy. She couldn't very well barge into the middle of that. So, what to do with herself now?

*****************

Max stood floundering at the front of the classroom. Every eye was on him, expecting brilliance or at least whit of one form or another, neither of which Max was capable of at the moment. And talking about himself was never something he'd been particularly good at. The only person who'd been able to get him to open up and share had been Liz Parker. He scanned the crowd despairingly and then shot a longing look at the door wishing nothing more than to be able to walk through it. And there on the other side like an angel of mercy stood Liz herself. Was he just seeing things out of sheer desperation, or was she really there? He closed his eyes and then opened them again and she remained, looking agitated and upset. Liz needed him! He took a step toward the door and then realized where he was. He was going to have to come up with some excuse to leave here.

"Mrs. Greenslade, I don't feel well. I've been fighting a fever. May I go to the nurse?"

She gave him a shrewd look, knowing a look of terror when she saw it. "Come here," she ordered.

Max did as requested, quickly altering the molecules of his forehead simply to be moving faster.

Mrs. Greenslade put her hand to his forehead. "You really are burning up," she said with concern. "You'd better go to the nurse." She quickly wrote him a note and then pursued the audience for her next victim.

Max grabbed his bag and bolted. "You saved me!" he told Liz as he joined her wiping sweat from his forehead.

Liz grabbed Max's arm and pulled him down the hall. She spotted an empty classroom -- the teacher probably had his or her off period now -- and pulled Max inside it. When no one could see them, see that they were cutting class, Liz breathed a sigh of relief. Now she could tell him what was going on. Liz didn't question why Max was the one she went to about this. She just went with her gut.

"Mrs. Thacker didn't show up for Music Appreciation today," Liz told him quickly, her voice taking on an unusually frantic tone. "Miss Owens didn't know where she was. She wasn't at the Junior High this morning, either, and she didn't call in. I think Mrs. Thacker has become one of the random disappearances. It's not just tourists and homeless people anymore, Max. This is hitting close to home. We've got to find out what's going on. If it's more of... your kind, we have to find out their plan!"

"I agree," Max said frowning at the news. "I just wish we knew what they wanted. Dear old Mom sure did leave a lot out of that message she left us. 'The evil within'? What kind of clue is that?" Max stopped himself from ranting any further and took a deep breath. "I'm tempted to try and get in contact with Nasedo and find out more about what we're dealing with. What's that old line about knowing being half the battle?" He put a hand on her upper arm consolingly. "We'll figure this all out, Liz," he assured her.

"Do you think he'll know?" Liz questioned. She didn't trust Nacedo, and she never would. How could you ever trust someone who had kidnapped you, and would have had no qualms about killing you if Max hadn't rescued her. That rescue attempt had led to his capture by the FBI. Liz blamed Nacedo for all of that.

But maybe Nacedo, the only alien from their homeworld they knew of, would know what was causing the disappearances. If he did, then at least it wouldn't be a mystery anymore. As long as they could trust him.

She looked up at Max. "Call him. Call him now." She started to reach for her cell phone, despite the long distance bill she would get, and then she thought of something. "Maybe we should find a payphone. The FBI probably has phone tracing capabilities..."

***************

Jeffery sensed Jessica moving beside him, but he was careful not to look in her direction, in case Spike had not noticed. Jeffery knew that if any normal human could keep Spike on his toes, it would be Jessica. She even had the presence of mind to taunt the vampire. Jeffery just hoped that Spike didn't get distracted as to what the real topic of conversation was, namely, what Spike was doing in Tess Harding's house. If, of course, the vampire would answer. Jeffery wished he knew a truth spell he could cast, but, alas, that wasn't in his repertoir yet.

Spike raised an eyebrow at the healing. "I see you've taken up the family pastime," Spike observed. "It having gone so well for yer mum and all. And just how, pray tell, could I have broken in where I wasn't invited?" he asked in answer to their taunts. They would have remembered that little prohibition sometime soon anyway.

"Leave Catherine out of this," Jeffery snapped, still refusing to call the woman who'd almost killed him mother. "And, yes, you could get in here just fine if the real Tess Harding is dead, or if something more evil has happened to her. Though, if you have been invited, that puts a whole new spin on things. I have to wonder, how you managed to wangle such an invite. Your stunning good looks? Your blythe wit? Your pointy teeth in her pretty, little neck?"

"Oh, it seems I've struck a sore point," Spike observed. "Didn't get along with mommy dearest? And you better watch your tongue there, mate, or I'll strangle you with it."

Despite her better judgement, Jessica jumped head-first into the verbal fray. She and Jeffrey shared a special sore point - bad mothers - and there was no way she was going to leave him on his own. Not tactically smart, but oh well.

"I'm guessing it was a grab-in-the-alley type of thing," she said, giving Spike a once-over as if he were a slightly distasteful bug. "I can't see anyone inviting him in. I mean, c'mon. Billy Idol? Can we say undead fashion victim?"

[Wow,] her inner realist quipped. [Death wish much? Let's not play Bait-the-Vampire-and-Run next time, okay?]

"Oh, this from the lovechild of Martha Stewart and Woody Allen! I'm all broken up inside." Spike rejoindered.

Jessica's mouth fell open. Woody Allen she could take, but Martha Stewart was too much. "Do I look like Martha Stewart to you?" she demanded angrily, since she was at a loss as to how to reply to that. Thankfully she still had the presence of mind to keep the mace hidden, but there was definitely murder in her eyes now.

"Well..." Spike said with a shrug.

Jeffery reached inside himself and concentrated on fire. A small, pure Ball of the stuff appeared just above the palm of his outstretched hand. If he moved his hand, the ball moved. He demonstrated a couple of times, knowing Spike would realize what that meant. Jeffery wasn't going to throw the fire ball, unless he had to. He wanted information from Spike. But the potential for a flamey death was there for him, just as the potential for a fangy death was there for them. All this hinged, of course, on if this kind of flame was enough to kill a vampire. Jeffery had never actually had the opportunity to check that out. But he wasn't going to tell Spike that.

"It seems as if we've reached somewhat of a standstill," Jeffery said finally. He cocked an eyebrow at Spike. "Perhaps we should find something more illuminating to talk about than threats. Such as these so-called super vampires wrecking havoc on Roswell. I'd be willing to bet quite a sum that they are the reason you're here."

Spike raised an eyebrow at Jeffery's new play thing. It did rather alter the balance of power in the situation. The smirk drained from his face as the boy upped the ante.

"Oh, is that why you blokes left good ole Sunnyhell? Not just the change of scenery." His ego was gratified that news of his exploits had spread far and wide, but from a practical perspective it just brought the whitehats BACK onto his case. That he could have done without.

***************

Aidan's performance was convincing, almost enough for Isabel to think he wasn't from the FBI. She found it hard to belive that the government would employ someone that stumbling in it's elite force. But on the other hand, maybe he was just a great actor. And on the other hand. It was the government.

Glancing down at the papers he gave her, Isabel tired to work out what question was more moronic.

"Why do all these questionnaires ask if you like shrubs?" She asked Cordelia.

Cordelia glanced down at the paper to find the familiar question. "Says something about your personality...I think." Slyly glancing over at the other girl Cordelia asked in her best interrogative voice "So...are you a shrub person?"

Isabel let out a little laugh. "Very Un-Shrub. Nothing against them. Just, well...There shrubs."

"Not a shrub person" Cordelia mentally told herself, making a mark on the check-list in her mind. "I'm not a shrub person either" she told Isabel "To me they're just another thing to get in the way when I'm backing out of the driveway."

The small talk was all well and good, but Isabel wanted to know more about this girl. "So...you like, new here?"

It was a safe enough question, either she was or she wasn't.

'She certainly knows how to dress," Isabel absently thought as she looked at her.

Cordelia gave the girl a confused smile. "Is she questioning me?" she asked herself. I'm supposed to be the detective here! Realizing the Isabel probably would get bored staring at her inner turmoil Cordelia quickly formulated an answer which was mostly made up of the truth. "Yeah, I moved here this summer. I'm living with some relatives." Inside her head she added "I followed my boyfriend here to track down some fun demons."

Cordelia struggled to think of another question to ask Isabel, one that was informative but not too obvious. "So...have you been living in Roswell forever? If so, fill me in...any cool place to shop around here?" Ah yes, Cordelia told herself. Very smooth.

"Well you can find some good stuff, if you look hard enough, but we don't have any designer shops," Isabel replied, before suddenly realising that the comment was a little judgemental. Sure, this Cordelia looked like she knew what was 'in' and 'out', but still.

"Sorry, you just seem to be the sort of person who knows the difference between Versace and a cheap knock off."

"You bet I can!" Cordelia agreed. She had spent long arduous hours perfecting the talent, and she never let a chance to inform someone slip through her fingers. Glancing back down at the useless survey Aidan had given her, Cordelia asked Isabel "So what are you here for, schedule change?" After she asked the question she realized how pointless it was, Isabel was here so that Cordelia could suck all the demon related information out of her. At least it sounded realistic.

"Well apparently I need some guidnace in my schedule." Isabel rolled her eyes, before adding, "The new guy must be really dedicated...or have no life."

"I think it's a little of both" Cordelia laughed. Actually, she thought, I *know* it is. He's dedicated to finding out what you and you're creepy friends are up to, and that's not much of a life! "I'm here to change my schedule. They gave me art which so does not work with me."

"Well at least you know why you are here." Isabel said as she got up and moved towards Aidan's desk. She tried not to make it obvious, but she gave his desk the once over, seeing if there was anything of interest on top of it. Satisfied that there wasn't she arched her back, making out that she needed a stretch, before resuming her seat.

"Well I know I'm not a shrub person and I didn't need to change anything about my schedule, so whatever I am doing here must be a guidance officer surprise." Isabel sounded less than thrilled. And that was without even counting on the whole 'he's probably here to kill you' theory.

********************

"Well, all I know is that he knows more than we do. And it can't hurt, right?" Max stuck his head out the door. "Come on. I just hope no one stops us in the hall, demands to know what we're doing out of class." He headed stealthily into the hall and continued his conversation. "Just after he left for Washington I got a letter in the mail. It was a phone number where I could reach him in emergencies. He told me to memorize the number and then burn the letter so we wouldn't leave a paper trail."

"Nasedo doesn't like leaving loose ends," Liz agreed, trying to cover the slightly bitter edge to her voice. She had been one of those loose ends once. "But you're right, it's better to know."

There was a bank of payphones students used during lunch near the front doors, but Liz knew stopping there would still be too suspicious in the event of a trace. "I guess we have to leave campus? There's a pay phone at the MiniMart down the road..."

"Yeah, good plan. The Jeep's this way." He led the way over to where he had parked the Jeep this morning. He started the engine and gave the usual scan of the gauges. 'I could have sworn I just gassed this thing up last night,' he thought to himself, seeing only three quarters of a tank. 'I'll have to keep an eye on that, make sure it's not leaking.' He couldn't smell any gas.

When Liz was in the car he put his hand on the back of the passenger seat as he looked behind him before backing out. He got a flash of a redhead sitting in the seat talking to Michael. Well, that explained the gas depletion. No leak after all. But who was the girl? He was back with Maria now, at least from what Max could tell from their behavior. Casual friends didn't tend to hold hands. He shook off his reverie with another point added to the Talk to Michael About Later List and pulled out headed for the MiniMart.

"You know," Liz commented quietly as they drove the short distance to the Mini-Mart, "I never cut classes before I met you. In fact, before I met you, the grand total of classes I ever cut was one. This one day in seventh grade Maria talked me into cutting PE to watch the boys basket ball team practice. We hid behind the bleachers, until Coach Calhoun caught us and took us back to the softball fields. Not pretty."

Suddenly, Liz realized she was rambling. She was rambling to Max. Somehow, when they were alone and distracted, it was so easy for her to forget that she wasn't supposed to treat him like her boyfriend anymore. She bit her lip and stared out the window.

Max looked over at her and grinned. "So you're saying I'm a bad influence?" he asked with some irony. Straight-laced, wholesome, honor student Max Evans, at least in the eyes of the general populace of West Roswell High, a bad seed. If it didn't remind him of how much simply knowing him had altered and endangered Liz's life it would be dang funny.

Liz couldn't help it. She looked over at Max and grinned. "Oh yeah, Max. You're a rebel."

Luckily, before she did anymore instinctive bonding, the Mini-Mart came into view. As soon as the jeep stopped, Liz hopped out and walked toward the pay phone. Someone was using it. A guy who looked like he must be cutting school somewhere. He was young, and he had brown hair. Also, he was even shorter than Liz, a definite sign of youth in a boy. A skateboard was propped up next to the phone booth. Unfortunately, the phone on the opposite side was broken. Liz wondered if it would be too noticable if she grabbed the boy and flung him away from the phone. On second thought, Liz decided waiting calmly for him to finish was a better option.

*******************

"Well, Roswell does have certain charms," Jeffery replied. Casually, he bounced the fireball from one hand to the other. It crackled and hissed as it moved through the air. "So, Spike... level with us for once in your Un-Life. Why are you really here? And what connection do you have with Tess Harding?"

"She's a friend," Spike hedged. Coming out and saying 'I turned her over,' and/or 'she's an alien' and/or 'She's my co-big-bad' were not on the Reveal to Your Enemies list. On the other hand, he was playing with fire in a literal sense and had to go carefully.

"A friend," Jessica said flatly. She had gone very businesslike in the space of a second and didn't seem ready to switch back any time soon. She decided to make a little leap of faith. If she was wrong, she would just continue her stupid-blond thing, and if she was right, maybe it would get them somewhere.

"Would this be a preschool playtime friend?" she asked quietly. "Or are we talking about the evil-being-from-beyond-the-grave type of friend?"

This was getting more and more interesting, if fairly dangerous. One thing Jeffery knew was that Aidan was right. Normal girls did not go around befriending vampires. For that matter, vampires -- and especially viscious ones like Spike -- did not go around befriending humans. Killing or changing, that's what vampires did to humans. So Tess was something more than a human. And Jessica had, obviously, followed right along Jeffery's logic trail. Jeffery waited to see what Spike would say before he made any sudden moves. He still wasn't sure how they were going to get out of this.

"What, a guy like me can't have chums?" Spike inquired with a touch of indignance, not answering her question.

******************

Figuring Willow must have filled Buffy in on their cover, Aidan tried to cover up his blushing with a sarcastic reply. "Sure, snookums. No problem."

Turning to Buffy, Aidan got back to business. "Tess Harding, a junior here, is our top priority right now. We do want to find out what happened with Max Evans, but he does not seem to have the same... prediliction for belligerance as Miss Harding. I suspect she is some kind of demon. Not a vampire, because I've seen her in the sun, but she is a girl smaller than you, Buffy, and I couldn't budge her. She's too strong, too angry, and too bloodthirsty according to Jessica and Xander's story about what she did at the Crashdown, to be human. Jeffery and Jessica are working on getting proof of that right now." Aidan had slipped Tess's picture from her file into his pocket before leaving his office and he held it out to Buffy. "You can't keep this, but at least now you can see what she looks like."

********************

Harmony was a little surprised at being invited, by someone she hardly knew, to what seemed to be the social event of the year. But she maybe, she thought, that was what friends did.

"Yeah, I'm going with..." Harmony paused not knowing what exactly to say. Having spent the last 15 minutes since Jeffrey left, only thinking about him, Harmony's had started to venture into the land of romance. A land that scared the bejeebers out of her rational side. She didn't think for one moment that Jeffrey saw her like that, and more to the point she didn't really want to go there. What she and Jeffrey had, even if it was only based on a few hours of contact, meant more to her than any other relationship she had ever had. Did she really want to stuff around with that. No, she didn't. But she also couldn't ignore the fact, that after three months of wondering what had happened to Jeffrey, seeing him at lunch time only made her never want to lose him again. But thinking about Jeffrey and her, was giving Harmony a headache, so she resolved to put that on the back burner for the moment.

"...a friend." Harmony gave Michael a friendly smile. "It's hard to categorize, and I don't think I really want to."

Harmony gulped did she really just tell a virtual stranger about something sort of private. She didn't do that to anyone, well except Jeffrey.

'Arghh!! Gotta stop bringing up him,' Harmony cursed herself mentally.

Despite Michael's cool exterior, Harmony found that she was comfortable talking to him. Maybe it was because he was the only one of her friends, even if very new, that knew about her interest in Art. Even Je...

'Don't go there,' Harmony's mind kicked in again.

Even, non descript lovable person, [Ahh, that's better], didn't know that yet. Or maybe it was the fact that Michael, like Maria, Liz, Isabel and Max had no preconceived ideas about her. With them as friends and 'non descripto' in town, Roswell may turn up to be a blessing in disguise.

Of course all those up sides had a huge down side if her knew friends ended up being involved in something shady. But looking at Michael and Maria, Harmony just couldn't see it.

"I've heard it's good. I'll probably see you there."

Michael nodded, trying not to look too relieved. She was already going with someone so his inviting her didn't really matter. There was no way that Max could say anything to him about it now. Harmony would have gone with or without Michael's invite. And, though he wasn't about to tell Max this, Michael was glad that she was, in fact, going. He enjoyed talking to her. Michael was finally starting to understand why Isabel seemed to want to have a normal friendship with someone that DIDN'T involve running from the FBI and battling evil aliens. It was nice and, most importantly, it was safe. As long as Harmony didn't know the truth about him, he didn't have to worry about getting too emotionally involved in the friendship. He could walk away at any time. Michael felt a little sick to his stomach at that thought and immediately scowled. No. He was NOT going to do anything that would make him dependent on yet another person.

In the past year, he had gone from having two real friends to having eight, and that scared him. He had fought tooth and nail to keep from letting Liz Parker and her friends in. He'd tried to stay safely unattached. But he hadn't counted on Liz's best friend busting through all of his stone walls like they were made of paper. Maria had firmly wedged herself into his life, and Liz and Alex had snuck in after her, bringing the Sherrif, Tess and Kyle along for the ride. And strangely enough, he was glad that it had happened because he knew that, if he didn't have Maria in his life, he wouldn't really even be alive. He'd be like a husk, dead to the world, only caring about finding his ellusive home. Maria had changed him. She was his first kiss, his first girfriend, his first everything. Somehow, despite all of his protests, she'd become more precious to him than anything in the world. And that's why Michael had stopped giving Max lip about his attachment to Liz. Because Michael understood what it was like to care more about someone else than yourself. He knew what it was like to get so emotionally involved with someone that it was hard to tell where they ended and you began. And he also knew that, as much as Max tried to fight it sometimes, he couldn't let Liz go. Just like Michael couldn't walk away from Maria for good. He always came back. He couldn't NOT come back to her.

[Okay, it's official, you've just out-Maxed Max. Teen angst has a brand new poster boy!]

Michael rolled his eyes, silently mocking himself. He was so far gone that it wasn't even funny.

He had already finished adding the antenae to the sketch of Max and started to add other people to the picture during his long inner-melodrama. There was a regal looking Isabel, complete in princess outfit with a crown and septer. Beside her was Alex, tall and gangly, guitar in hand, a goofy grin on his face as he looked at Izzy out of the corner of his eye. Then there was Liz, in Crashdown uniform - her antenae matched Max's, which caused Michael to smirk - a helpful smile on her face and a small book in her hands. Her journal, the thing that had started it all, as far as Michael was concerned. Because reading her journal had been what really let Michael know that he could trust her, and by extension, her friends. Then Michael started working on a characature of himself, having fun exaggerating his spikey hair. Contrary to popular belief, he *did* have a sense of humor. Michael added a t-shirt with the words "I Want to Believe" scrawled across the front to the sketch of himself, and put the keys to Maria's mom's car in his hands.

But thinking about the Jetta made him think about the one person that he hadn't added to the picture.

Maria.

And then, as if brought about by his thoughts of her, Maria began to speak. Michael stopped drawing for a minute to listen to what she had to say.

"Just don't wear bobbly antenna headbands. I see enough of those at work." Maria looked up from her random stick-figure doodling to give Harmony a quick smile. She was actually liking this girl, which was really surprising - under normal circumstances Michael talking to another girl would have made her murderous, depressed, or some combination of the two. But Harmony didn't come across like that. And being the new girl had to suck.

[Just keep in mind she could be an advance scout or something.] Even her inner-Maria was having trouble believing that. [Except she knew the guidance counselor. Fainted when she saw him. Which means she could be scared of him. Argh! This is making my head hurt!]

She looked over at Michael's sketch pad. "Thinking about a career in political cartoons?"

Michael shrugged. He almost replied by saying that he probably wouldn't be on Earth long enough to actually *have* a career, but they weren't alone and he was trying to be good. Cruel remarks were not needed, not now.

"Maybe. If that juvinile delinquent thing doesn't work out, I could give cartooning a go."

****************

This was getting them no where, and Jeffery was starting to get frustrated. They were at a standstill. Spike obviously did not want to answer their questions in a straightforward mannor, and they were not going to get any more information in this house as long as Spike was there. Jeffery just couldn't imagine asking Spike to take a walk while they finished their breaking-and-entering, as appealing as the idea would be.

The question became, what should he and Jessica do now? If they killed him, they might destroy their first hard link to the fact something was really wrong with Tess Harding. With the right, Slayer-given persuasion, Spike might prove quite informative. However, he was a vampire. Maybe they should kill him anyway. But could they destroy him without the aid of a Slayer? With Jeffery's freezing spell and his fire ball (though the fire ball had never actually been tested on a real-un-live vampire), maybe they could. But maybe the flame wouldn't work. And once they found that out, what if it was too late, and the freezing spell wore off before they could get a stake to his heart. Also, Jeffery had never tried to maintain both the freezing spell and the flame spell simultaneously. What if he couldn't do them both at the same time?

All in all, it seemed a better option to retreat. It was daylight outside. All they had to do was get out the door without him attacking them. Then, perhaps they could find Faith and bring her back here, before sunset, to beat some answers out of the peroxide punk.

Keeping his eyes on Spike, Jeffery motioned Jessica to head for the front door. It was behind them. "Sure, Spike," Jeffery said. "You can have all the chums you want. And, seeing as neither of us is willing to compromise, I think we should postpone our discussion for another time."

Jeffery was poised to leave as soon as Jessica was out the door.

"You mean you'll drop by again? Be still my beating heart," Spike said sarcastically. "Oh wait, my heart doesn't beat." The joviality left Spike's features and with deadly seriousness he warned, "I'd be careful when and who you brought anyone back here. I'd just love to add another Slayer notch to the belt. Three's a nice round number, don't you think?"

"Tough talk," Jeffery commented, spinning the fireball around above his fingers. "Especially for someone who can't kill the current Slayer, and not for lack of trying." Jeffery shrugged. "See ya later, Spike. Enjoy the rest of your... day."

With that, Jeffery took advantage of Spikes reluctance to attack (something that wouldn't last long, especially with many more cracks) and followed Jessica out the door. He paused on the other side, contemplating throwing the fireball inside the house now that they were clear. But, all in all, that wasn't sporting. You had to abide by your word in truce situations, and that's what this was, mostly. And, of course, killing Spike still was not a good idea information-wise.

He slammed the door, and they started walking, as quickly as possible, back toward the Camaro. Jeffery let go of his hold on the fire ball and it disappeared with little effort required.

Spike snarled at the parting remark from Jeffery. That boy was just asking for a serious killing. Not now, obviously, what with the day and all. Scoobies in town in force specifically here to stop him and Tess and company. Peachy. He wondered what Tess had been up to that brought them here. His presence didn't do much for her cover. Perhaps a change of locale was in order...

"All right," Jeffery said, giving Jessica a side-long glance, "that was entirely unexpected!"

****************

It was good to see Liz smiling again, good to have her teasing him. Any rejoinder he might have made was cut off by their arrival.

Max took in the situation. Did they have time to wait for this kid to get off the phone with his bookie or his drug dealer or whatever? 'Wow, I'm getting cynical in my old age,' he thought to himself. He took a look at the broken phone.

"If I can fix Maria's car to get us all back from Texas, I should be able to make a phone work," he whispered to Liz, trying not to be overly distracted by how great her hair smelled. "It can't be that hard, right?"

Liz positioned herself between the boy and the broken phone, hoping her body would shield from view anything Max was about to do.

To cover her action, she adopted a frustrated posture with one hand on her hip, and pretended to be leaning against the phonebooth for support. Then she whined, "Just hurry up and make your call, OK? I don't want to wait here all day. We didn't cut school to hang out at the Mini-Mart!"

Inside, Liz smiled, though she couldn't let it show. Maybe she wouldn't be so bad in drama class after all!

Max grinned at Liz's acting. She was always quick with a cover story. Just one more way she saved his life on a regular basis. He approached the phone and looked through it, trying to figure out where things ought to be, what needed connecting and what a working phone looked like. Trying to keep his body between what he was doing and any casual observers, he brought up his hand which began to glow. He brought it slowly down the defunct phone attempting to restore order. He reached the bottom of the phone and his hand stopped radiating. He picked up the receiver and got a dial tone. He touched the side of the phone and flipped the proper switches so the phone thought he had deposited his $.35 and then dialed the number he had memorized months before. Now, if only Nasedo hadn't been caught, if he was actually at the other end of the line, if the phone wasn't tapped and if he actually knew anything helpful...this might be productive. There were too many ifs here, and that was just the short list.

Liz hummed, slightly off-key, as she waited, pretending to be frustrated and bored. When the phone worked again, Liz stopped leaning on the booth and paced around nearby.

The boy hung up his phone after a bit, and skateboarded off. He gave both Max and herself a lengthy look. Still in character, Liz called, "Take a picture. It lasts longer!" The boy seemed appropriately cowed by the high school students, and rolled away. But there was something about him. Something that gave Liz the creeps. Rubbing her hands together, Liz tried to shake off the feeling and wait calmly for Max to finish his phone call.

****************

"Tess Harding?" Buffy asked."She's the one the vamp mentioned. As the 'alien'. Whatever that means." she said." I need to know more about her and this festival tonight. If were gonna go all incognato, I need to mesh."

"This is all very strange," Aidan muttered. "We know that Tess isn't a vampire because we saw her in the sunlight. However, vampires don't usually show loads of interest in other supernatural creatures, unless they need them in some way. Perhaps..." Aidan shook his head, unable to come up with a theory that made sense. And he completely did not understand the "alien" reference, unless is was more of the crack-pot alien theorists-turned vampire.

With a sigh, Aidan said, "I suppose we will just have to investigave her further and figure this out."

Then Buffy's last comment registered. "Oh, yes. Costumes. There is a shop outside of town. Perhaps you and Willow can go together." Aidan lightened up enough to give Willow his immitation of a sappy lover's look. "Would yo mind picking up something inconspicuos for me, darling? Something without flashing lights, neon colors and sequins, if possible."

Willow batted her eyelashes at Aidan and gave him a pretty pout. "I don't have enough money to buy a whole costume, snookums. Could you loan me some, pretty please? With cream and sugar on top?"

Aidan pulled his Mastercard out and gave it to Willow. "There you go, doll-face. Just don't buy the whole store."

"Wait a minute, hold on,"Buffy said," We have to dress up like aliens? Like, Star Trek or whatever? Oh, that ought to be fun. But OK," she said frowning, trying to find a bright side," It should be interesting..." She looked at Willow," Do you want to go know?" she said hesitantly. If this is your first day of school, and all.

****************

Michael looked back down at his picture, which had started off as a simple sketch and turned into a pretty complex drawing during all the time that they'd been sitting here waiting for their substitute teacher to arrive. Michael paused mid-thought, briefly wondering what had happened to the teacher, but ultimately not caring too much since the sub's absence gave them more free time. He looked at his sketchbook and the 5 teens he'd drawn looked right back at him in their own cartoonish way. But one person was missing from the picture. One important person.

Maria.

He put his pencil to the page and started to draw, adding her in right beside the sketch-Michael without really even thinking about it. It was just where she belonged.

He was very conscious of the fact that she was sitting right beside him and could see everything that he was drawing. As his pencil traced over the familar shapes that made up her face, he didn't really even have to concentrate on what he was doing. He knew her face by heart and had drawn it more times than he cared to count. And that showed in the way that her face seemed so much more detailed than the others, though he was hoping that she wouldn't pick up on that fact since she had never really done much in the way of art before. He paused before adding her newly long hair. He hadn't drawn her since he'd discovered that she'd let her hair grow out. All of his other pictures had been from memory, with her shorter, flipped up style. He drew her in a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She always looked great to him, but he secretely really loved it when she wasn't trying to dress to the nines. She looked incredibly sexy in just her "around the house" clothes, though he'd never told her that before. On a whim, he started drawing a logo on the sketch-Maria's t-shirt, turning it into a Metallica shirt just like the one that he owned and cherished. Having her in possession of something special of his, even just in a drawing, made Michael happy.

[Woah! Max alert! Max alert! You're going into MAX-imum overdrive there, Mikey boy! Stop with the sap!]

Putting his pencil down, Michael looked at his finished sketch and felt like dying of embarassment. The sketch-Maria was drawn in much more detail than anyone else in the picture, less like a characature and more like a real drawing. And, art amature or not, she was bound to notice that! What was he going to say? ..."I'm an obsessed alien stalker boy who's been drawing picture after picture of you all summer and staring at them like a love-sick fool?" Yeah, right. Not in this lifetime. No matter how true it was...

Harmony watched as Michael finished up his sketching, waiting till he seemed to be finished before glancing onto the pad. Seeing what was drawn there and the obvious care taken, Harmony didn't say a word. She sensed it was a private thing and left it at that. The only acknowledgement she gave Michael was a little smile, and a nod, telling him she thought it was good.

"So are we meant to get all dressed up tonight? Any ideas?" Harmony asked, her mind swirling with different costumes that she didn't have at home.

Michael latched onto that conversational gambit like a drowning man grabbing a rope. Anything to take his mind off of the tell-all sketch he'd just drawn and Maria's presence beside him. "Most people wear costumes. Alien stuff. There's a little place on the outskirts of town that sells them. I'd offer to take you there, but the shop owner isn't all that fond of me." He winced, remembering the last time that he and Amy DeLuca, the queen of alien themed costumes and stuff, had been in the same room. She'd been thwapping him with a newspaper and kicking him out of her house after finding him in her daughter's bed. Which, granted, had looked bad to the casual observer, but totally wasn't what it appeared to be. He peaked over at Maria, wonding what she was thinking. She hadn't said a word since he'd finished the drawing of her. It was starting to freak Michael out. Maria's weren't meant to be silent. They were meant to be talkative and full of life. Just like Michael's were supposed to be moody and Liz's were supposed to be sweet and Max's were supposed to be calm. Why did everyone keep trying to go against type today? Maria being quiet, Michael being sappy, Max being upset and Liz dressing up in that killer outfit. It was strange and upsetting. Michael scowled, looking down at his picture and worrying the edges of the paper with his fingers. Well, at least he was back to normal. If this wasn't moody, he didn't know what was!

Maria's wonderful tendancy to say whatever popped into her head had completely failed her. Mostly because she just didn't have anything to say. Her art was limited to sticks with heads attached - kind of like minimalist hangman - but she knew enough to understand that Michael had put a lot more thought into her picture than anyone else's. Except it hadn't taken him a lot of time.

[How much time did he spend thinking about me?] she wondered. Then she smiled faintly and answered herself. [Probably about as much time as I spent thinking about him.]

She looked down at her sketchpad and added spikey, rather uncombed hair to one of the stick figures. It was hard to put expressions on a face with such a lack of artistic talent, but she managed to give it a sort of Michaelish look. If Michaelish could be achieved with two dot eyes and a line mouth, anyway. It didn't look grumpy, which was always a plus.

She gave another stick figure her own hair - in a sort of chicken- scratch way. It was the one closest to the Michael-stick figure, almost close enough to be touching. Damn. Now she was getting sappy. Sappy was not good. Time to think of something else - and fast.

Before she looked up, she added a quick pair of antenna to Michael- stick's head, just for fun.

The feeling Harmony had at the cafeteria during lunch surfaced again. It wasn't Michael's fault, or Maria's for that matter, but it was obvious to Harmony that she was on the outer of these two. Not that, that was a bad thing. It's just what she felt. And as much as Michael was making her feel very welcome, she couldn't escape the feeling that maybe she should let them be alone for a while.

However that would mean that Harmony would spend a rather boring lesson, especially since they seemed to have no teacher today, alone. And Michael and Maria had made the decision to sit with her.

Harmony decided that it was her own natural parnoia. Very illogical, but even though Harmony was trying to change she still found it unusual when others were nice to her. A part of her always expected it to come back and bite her on the backside. So she didn't move at all.

"Well I'm meeting Liz after school at the Crashdown, then getting picked up around 7.00. So I'll have to see what i can come up with."

"Go for something different," Maria said as she added a stick-Liz with a stick-Maxdrool-outfit. "I mean, if you don't want to go as a little green man, there's probably other stuff. I've seen a couple of really good mummies and a really realistic demon-thing." She gave Michael a quick smile to make sure he understood she had not meant any offense by the 'little green man' remark. A complete stick-Pod Squad now populated the sketchpad, with the notable exception of any stick-Tess.

Harmony shuddered at the suggestion at going as a demon. It hit way to close to home. There was the idea of going as a Barbarella type. But thoughts of that, combined with who she was being picked up by, brought back all of the feelings she was trying not to deal with, into the forefront of her mind.

"I'll put something together," Harmony replied. Then thinking back to a certain outfit she was left in, the last time she went out at night with Jeffrey, she started to laugh. She could laugh about it now. And it didn't take too many therapy sessions either.

"Sorry," she said looking at Michael and Maria. "Just remembering the last 'costume' I was stuck in. Very scary."

****************

[What does he mean, another Slayer notch?] Jessica found herself swallowing around a sudden lump in her throat as she realized what Spike had been referring to. If this creep could take out Slayers like Buffy and Faith, what was to stop him from making her into a tasty little snack.

"Like we'd need a Slayer's help," she said flippantly, but there was a slight flicker - just for a moment - that told the world she had been caught off-guard. It was gone in an instant. "Puh-leese." Her hand found the lock and she flicked it, swinging the door open and stepping aside so that a beam of sunlight streamed in. "C'mon, Jeffrey. I don't have any sunscreen to loan him."

"The Spike part, yeah." Jessica was frowning back at the house as if it would suddenly spit out a secret - or possibly just bite her. "I've got an idea about all of this," she said when she was satisfied that nothing incredible was going to happen. "Let's go with the idea that Spike made Tess into a vampire. Gross, but since he's in the house, not impossible."

Her frown deepened as she thought aloud, since she didn't like where this was going. "Unless I missed something, Spike seemed like a pretty run-of-the-mill vamp as far as sunlight went. If he made Tess all fangy, she shouldn't have been able to handle it any better than he did - unless she had some sort of power to begin with. What happens when you make a sorceress or a witch into a vampire?"

Jeffery shrugged, relieved to note they had almost reached the Camaro. "I've never met one, but I remember Willow telling me about this witch-vampire, Alexandria. She's the one who did the spell making Angel human temporarily. We could ask Willow about that at the meeting at my house tonight. Aidan might have some insight as well. I do agree with you, though. If Spike lives in Tess's house, the chances of her being your average, run-of-the-mill schoolgirl are slim to none."

"I'm putting my money on none," Jessica answered immediately. "Big, fat, heavy none." She rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingers. "Ugh. If I see one more big-bad-wannabe vampire, I'm going to have to get violent."

When they got to the car, Jeffery unlocked it for Jessica and then got in the driver's seat. He glanced at his watch. "Ack! My class starts in half an hour. I guess I should go back to the university. Do you want to come with, or should I drop you off somewhere on the way?"

"Nah. I don't have a class for a couple of hours, but I need to talk to my coach. You can just drop me off anywhere on campus." As she fastened her seatbelt, Jessica took one last look at the house. "Remind me to mace him next time," she muttered as the spray went back into her purse.

Jeffery smirked as he pulled the Camaro out of the parking place by the tennis court. The court was just as deserted as when they had arrived, so he didn't think the make and model of his car had been made. And Spike just didn't seem the type to call the cops.

"I'd love to see that," Jeffery said, referring to the mace. He tried his best to drive casual (not speeding out of the neighborhood like a bat out of hell) as they started on the road back to the university.

"Well," he commented, "we got out of that unscathed, though I wish we could have tricked Spike out of a little more information."

After a moment of silence (just what he got, he thought, for stating the obvious), Jeffery reached over and turned on the radio. Smooth tunes filled the Camaro, soothing his worried soul. The drive to the university was calming. Driving the Camaro always was. Despite its flashiness and lack of concealability, it had been a good investment, if only for his sanity.

When they got to the university, Jeffery found a spot in the commuter lot and pulled in easily. "Well, my class is in the science building," he said, as he got out of the car. "Which way are you headed, Jess?"

"The athletic department, wherever /that/ is." Jessica frowned and looked around the campus. "Thataway, I think." She indicated the direction opposite the science building. "I'll see you later?"

"Sure," Jeffery agreed. "My class is over in just over an hour, so if you want a ride back, meet me back at the car then. If not, I'll either see you at my house for that meeting Doyle called, or catch you at the festival tonight!"

Then Jeffery turned, and with one last jaunty wave to Jessica headed for his first, real, big-time, college class.

***************

"Pierce," came the voice over the phone. Max heaved a sigh of relief. Some ifs were squelched...

"It's Max. Can you talk?"

There was a pause. "Where are you?"

"Payphone," Max answered, thinking the answer sufficient to allay Nasedo's fears without revealing his actual location for eavesdropping bad guys.

"What's wrong?"

'What I couldn't just call to chat?' Max thought irreverently. "People have been disappearing from Roswell," he said aloud.

"The Four?" he asked quickly.

"We're fine, but I'm not sure how long that will last. Who were the others you talked about?"

"The ones who deposed you."

"How do we know who they are? How do we stop them?"

"If I knew that, they never would have killed you in the first place. Kill whoever you have to. I'll do my best to cover it up from here. Above all, stay inconspicuous. They probably don't know who you are yet."

"That's encouraging."

"No one said it was going to be easy, Highness."

Max stiffened. Highness? This was too much. The click and silence from the receiver didn't help any.

Liz saw Max stiffen. From the way he was staring at the reciever, she could tell his conversation was over. Dropping all pretense, she walked over and laid a hand on his shoulder, hoping to comfort him in some small way. "What happened, Max? What did he say?"

"He said to kill whoever we needed and he'd do his best to cover it up," Max answered in a barely audible whisper, his face betraying how he felt about that piece of advice. "What a typically Nasedo answer: just kill a bunch of people. I can't do that, Liz. We have no idea who are enemies are or how to tell them from everyone else. I can't just go on a killing spree of everyone who looks at us funny. I'm not a murderer. That's not us. Liz, he called me 'highness.' How am I supposed to be a king? Apparently I didn't do a very good job of keeping us alive the first time around and now I'm in the dark. Yeah, our chances are SO much better!"

Liz's horror at Nasedo's lack of caring about anything human was muted by the knowledge that Max did not, and would not ever agree.

She didn't have any answers for his questions. Max and his destined role was the whole problem with their love life. How could she let herself distract him from a destiny in which a whole race hung in the balance. She couldn't. That was the problem.

But Liz couldn't stand to see Max like that. She wished she had words to comfort him, but maybe she had something better. Liz moved closer to Max and wrapped her arms around him. She let him lay his head against her shoulder -- though he had to bend to do so -- and she gave him a tight hug, hoping it would let him know that, though they weren't together, she did care about him more than she'd ever been able to say in words.

After a long moment, Liz let Max go. Then she grabbed the Jeep keys. They were sticking out from the waistband of his jeans, so she didn't have to go into forbidden territory to get them.

"Come on," she said. "I'll drive us back." She led him back to the Jeep, and put him in the passenger side. Then she got in the driver's side, started the motor and then began cruising back toward West Roswell High.

**************

Cordelia's mind desperately searched for something more to ask Isabel. She wished Aidan had given her a crash course in detective work because this was not going well! So far all she knew was that Isabel was not a shrub person and she had lived in Roswell long enough to know where to shop. A local non-shrub, that was very helpful!

"So..." she trailed, trying to make some sort of conversation "Are you going to that festival thing tonight? I hear its a really big deal."

'Yeah, it's a big deal,' Isabel thought sarcastically, 'everyone celebrating our crash to earth."

"It's sort of the annual event around here. I'll make an appearance no doubt, but it's not really my thing. It's just a little tacky," Isabel replied, completely ignoring the fact that just a year ago she use to get all dolled up for the night.

Aidan clapped Willow on the shoulder and said with a grin to Buffy, "I'm sure she does. Especially now that she's got my credit card." Turning to Willow, he emphasized, "Remember, no Day-Glo, no sequins and no tights. Now I'd better see how Cordelia is doing with Miss Evans." He started to leave, and then he turned back, "Buffy, in case you didn't know, we're meeting at Jeffery and Amy's house this evening about 5 p.m. for a group meeting. Then we're all going to the festival." He found a piece of paper on the table, used his ever-present pen to scribble down the Madison's address, and handed it to Buffy with the explanation, "So you know where to go. Oh, and I put my phone numbers at the bottom in case you need to call for any reason." Then he turned and strolled out of the teacher's lounge and back toward his office.

Aidan walked toward his office as quietly as possible, taking light steps so the heels of his dress shoes wouldn't make noise on the tile flooring. Once he got to the door, he paused and listened, just to the side of it, trying to ascertain if any secrets were being spilled.

Deciding that either 1) no secrets were forthcoming, or 2) they had already been spilled, Aidan opened the office door and walked back inside.

He had a stack of papers with him, and he sat down at his desk with them. As he talked, he shuffled through them, scribbling on each rather quickly.

"I don't want to detain you girls too long from your classes," he explained as he set the papers down. He briefly accessed something on the computer and typed a few characters, then hit the print key. "So, I'll go as quickly as possible here."

He handed Isabel a sheet of paper with severl items circled. "From the information in your file, Miss Evans, I think you would benefit from taking more honor's level classes. It's my goal this semester to get all the students at this school working up to their potential. I've circled several classes for you to consider transferring into. And if you decide to do so, feel free to come back and see me at any time. I would love to counsel with you about it."

"Maybe I'll see you there..." Cordelia started to say as she heard someone entering the room.

"Aidan!" she thought "Finally!"

Aidan gave Isabel a dismisive smile and turned to Cordelia. He handed her some papers, as well as the print out from the computer. "Your schedule is fixed, however, I have attached a list of honors classes for you as well, in case you would like to upgrade, Miss Chase. The test scores in your file are quite impressive. I would be happy to counsel with you later, as well."

Inside the packet Aidan gave Cordelia was a note that said simply, "Fill me in on what happened at the 5 o'clock meeting at the Madison's."

Finally, he handed them both passes, so they could get back to class. "Thank you, Miss Evans, Miss Chase, for coming in. Let me know if I can help in any other way." Then he pretended to get busy with other paperwork so they could leave and get back to class before a suspicious amount of time passed.

Cordelia placed the survey he had been given on the desk in front of her and then leafed through the papers Aidan had handed her, quickly reading the note and stuffing it into her pocket. "Thank you Mr. O'Shea" she said as she stood up, giving him a big smile and heading towards the door.

Turning to Isabel she added "It was nice to meet you Isabel. I'll look for you at the Crash Festival tonight." Of course I might be looking at you with binoculars from behind a tree, she added in her mind.

Isabel gave Cordelia a quick smile in return but didn't say anything. There was something just not right about this whole meeting. Something that seemed just a little out of place. Was it her paranoia or just a co-incidence that she was placed in a room with one of the new students? Was the new guidance officer really dedicated to his job or just covering up for some other motive? There were more questions that Isabel would have liked to have answered, but at present she didn't know of any way to ask them without drawing attention to herself.

There was one person that may know. Harmony. Isabel didn't like to think ill of the girl, but she did know a number of the new kids, and the guidance officer. And that made her target number one in Isabel's view of sight.

"Bye," was all she said to Aidan, not bothering to answer any of his suggestions. Even if he was on the level, she didn't feel the need to heed any of the advice. She had the courses she wanted. She had so much other stuff happening in her life, that changing classes would be a much unwanted distraction.

She lifted herself up out of the seat and walked out the door, not acknowledging Aidan amy more than she had already done.

**************

Michael raised an eyebrow at Harmony but didn't say anything about the 'scary' reference. Then he sighed, snapping his sketchbook closed and turning around in his chair to face the front of the room. Still no teacher. Not that he wasn't enjoying the lack of supervision, but this was getting weird. He glanced at his watch. It was almost 15 minutes after the bell. And one glance around the art room, which was populated by a diverse group of students from freshman to seniors; artsy types to jocks, showed that the natives were starting to get a little restless. One group of 3 little freshmen boys were snickering at a corner table as they threw spit balls at a nearby group of girls. And a different table with 4 jocks, old friends of Kyle's if Michael remembered correctly, seemed to be in the midst of a belching contest. And last but not least, Gracie and Maggie, two of Isabel's perfect princess friends from last year, were sitting at the table next to Michael, Maria and Harmony, giggling and pointing at some of the students in the room, obviously talking behind their backs. Now normally Michael would just sit back and watch all of this with one of his trademarked smirks, just happy to not be doing any actual work, but this was Art. This was HIS class. And, shock of shocks, he wanted to actually get something done.

Turning around in his seat so that he was facing Maria and Harmony again, Michael said, "I'm going to go see what's up."

That said, he stood up and started to head for the door, intending to go to the office and ask when their teacher was due to arrive. He didn't even get three steps before he felt something small and wet smack onto the back of his head, dribbling something sticky down the back of his shirt. He froze, one hand reaching up to touch the back of his head and remove the offending object. It was a spit ball. He'd obviously walked into the line of fire from the freshman boys' table accidently, the self-same boys that he'd kicked off his table earlier.

Everyone in the room had gone completely silent. It was pretty well known that you didn't mess with Michael Guerin, not unless you wanted to get your teeth knocked in or worse. Even Valenti's goons had known to be careful around him.

As Michael slowly turned around, fixing the boys with a fierce glare, everyone in the room seemed to be holding their collective breaths. The 3 boys had gone deathly pale. They might be newbies to the world of high school politics, but they'd obviously gotten the memo on who NOT to mess with.

Michael walked over to their table, still holding the disgusting spit ball in his right hand, and stopped right next to them.

"Who threw this?" he asked quietly, his voice retaining a calmness that was somehow even scarier than if he'd been yelling and screaming.

The boys got even more pale, if that was at all possible, and were now noticibly trembling. The one in the middle raised his hand slowly. "Um... it... uh..." his voice cracked and he swallowed before trying again. "It was me."

Michael's eyes narrowed and he raised his hand. The three boys shrank back.

And he brought his hand down fast toward them...

...and plopped the spit ball right in the middle of their desk, in front of the boy who'd thrown it.

Michael raised an eyebrow and quickly wiped his hand off on a paper towl from the roll next to the sink. "Your aim needs work."

Then he turned and headed back to his seat without another word. He heard the gasps as the boys let go of breaths they hadn't even known they'd been holding and he smirked. Every once in a while, he was glad he had the troublemaker rep. It could be used to his advantage.

And just then, the door to the classroom opened and a young woman, obviously freshly out of college, with mousy brown hair and glasses, hurried into the room.

"I am so sorry I'm late, class. I was held up in a meeting with the principal. He's asked me to take on for Mr. Stalinski for the rest of the semester and I've accepted. So I'm going to be your new art teacher. My name is Jenny Owens, but you can call me Jenny." She grinned and started to set her supplies down on top of her desk.

"Now, how about we start off with introductions? Everyone will take turns by introducing yourself, telling us what your favorite painting is and telling us one reason why you chose to take Art."

Looking at her list, she started to scan down the list of names just as Michael was sliding back into his seat.

We'll start off with.... um... DeLuca, Maria." Jenny looked around, trying to spot the girl. "Is she here?"

[Crap.] Maria gave Michael a quick look - more to reassure herself than anything else. [She would bring up paintings, wouldn't she? Just my luck.]

"Um. Hi." That didn't sound quite right. She had the feeling one of the freshmen would've been laughing at her if he wasn't so deathly afraid of Michael. Little punk. Another person she was going to strangle with Mr. O'Shea's tie. "I'm Maria, like she said." Wow, this wasn't going well. "I'm taking art because I can't draw. And my favorite painting..."

[My favorite painting is the one sitting in that back cabinet, even though I hate it at the same time. It's the one with the weird rocks and that strange sky and, by the way, it's the planet my boyfriend came from. And he really is my boyfriend again, and he painted it.]

"My favorite painting is the Mona Lisa," she finished, before plopping back into her seat before Ms. Williams could ask her any more questions.

Jenny nodded and gave Maria a reassuring smile. "Welcome to the class Maria. The Mona Lisa is a classic; a good choice."

She continued down her list, calling up different students one at a time. The three freshmen avoided looking over at Michael's table when it was their turn. They just squeeked out their answers and sat back down. The Jocks - Tommy, Bobby and Jason - all came up with the normal, teen boy responses, which conisted of rolling their eyes and naming cartoon characters instead of actual paintings.

Jenny frowned and moved on.

Grace was up next, followed by Maggie and they both said they loved Freddie Prinze Jr, since he was much cuter than some stuffy old painting.

Jenny frowned again, sighing softly.

"Michael Guerin?" Jenny glanced around the room. "Is Michael here?"

Michael stood up slowly, managing to look completely at ease, like he didn't have a care in the world, when he was really completely uncomfortable.

"That's me."

Jenny smiled, noting that Mr. Salinski had left a note beside Michael's name on the roll sheet before he'd disappeared two days ago. It said, "Promising 2nd year student, needs to open up more."

"It says here that this is your second year in art, is that right?"

Michael shrugged, "Yeah, so?"

Jenny smiled and just gestured for him to go on.

"I'm Michael, I like to draw and my favorite painting is Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio's Supper at Emmaus, mostly for his use of such high contrast between the light and shadows." One of the jock's started to snicker was undoubtedly about to say something akin to "teacher's pet" when Michael fixed him with glare. He was silent. Michael sat back down without another word.

Jenny grinned, glad to see that, so far, at least two of her students seemed to have an actual interest in art. "Okay, um, Harmony Kendall, you're up next."

'Oh great, the teacher wants to get all caring and knowing,' Harmony thought. 'Why can't we just be left alone and let draw and paint and sculpt, and whatever else people want to do, art- wise?'

Harmony's protestations were more to do with the fact she had no answer, then any moral ground. She had always liked drawing as a youngster. Was pretty good for her age. But as Junior High beckoned so did the cool clique. And in the cool clique, spending time sketching events as you see them, was not likely to gain you any extra points around the lockers. So, much like most of Harmony's better nature, the love she had for Art was left behind.

It was only in the lonely nights she spent during the first few months in Roswell that she discovered why she use to enjoy it so much. It gave her an escape. Much like writers imagine themselves in different wonderful lands, Harmony's drawings would transport her to a magical place. Her experiences in Sunnydale and the stories she had heard, provided much of the inspiration. While in real life, she was deathly afraid of all things vampirish. In her dreams she fought them, beat them and was pretty much a hero. It was a vanity that she allowed to live in her dreamworld, but would not allow to flourish when awake. Death was all to real there.

So instead she drew the real heroes.

But she had no favourite artist, no favourite painting. And she wondered if telling the teacher that would immediately sentence her to a year of being ignored and looked upon as someone who wasn't taking the course seriously. But on the spur of the moment Harmony could not for the life of her, come up with any other answer.

"Umm, I'm Harmony and I don't have a favourite artist." Harmony tried to hide her embarrassment with a smile she gave the teacher. "I just find drawing enjoyable."

Jenny smiled. "That's alright, Harmony. Not everyone can pinpoint their favorites right away. It's just nice to know that you're taking this seriously. Art isn't just a blow off class, contrary to popular belief." She smiled at everyone, perching lightly on the edge of her desk. "Now, since class is almost over, I'm going to give you a quick homework assignment. Nothing major," she added, talking over the moans and groans from around the classroom. "Your assignment is to find something that moves you - it can be anything as long as it's G rated - and draw it. Nothing fancy, just pencils and paper or, for the more experienced artists among you," her eyes landed on the corner table briefly - the table that she already knew contained her best students for the year in Michael, Maria and Harmony - before continuing, "you can use whatever medium you feel comfortable with. But don't spend hours on this. I want you to try your best, but it shouldn't take longer than about 30 minutes or so. After all, this is just a precursury sketch so that I can find out where each of you are skill wise and where your strongest strengths as artists lie. Then we'll go from there." Smiling, she said, "That's it. It's due tomorrow. Now I'm letting you go about 5 minutes early, but it's just for today so don't count on the early release every day. Class dismissed."

Michael jumped up, putting his sketch book and pencils into his bag quickly. Looking at Maria and Hamrony, he said, "Um, I've got Bio next..." He shrugged, meeting Maria's eyes with his own intense gaze for a minute before quickly looking away. "So... later." Then he turned and headed for the door, wondering if Maria would follow him or not. He wanted her to, but he didn't have the guts to ask. Imagine it. Him. Michael Guerin. Scared of something. But he was. So he did what he always did when it came to her. Nothing.

"Bye Michael," Harmony called out after his retreating form. "Well I best be off as well," she said to Maria. "I'll catch you later."

Harmony got out of the seat and walked outside, wondering if her next class would be as much fun.

Maria started to say something - anything - but once glance around the room silenced her. She didn't need to discuss a relationship in the middle of an art room. No need to go quite so public, especially with all those obnoxious little freshmen in the room.

She gave Harmony a quick smile good-bye and scooped up her things. All she had to do now was track down her Chem class. Easy as pie.

*******************

Max surrendered to the moment and the understanding and compassion Liz was showing him. He was overcome by emotions. He felt indecisive and overwhelmed and inadequate and unprepared and responsible and afraid and alone and grateful for Liz and comfortable in her arms. This world had never exactly been safe for them. Now the danger factor had increased exponentially. But right here and right now nothing could harm him...or at least it seemed that way to him.

Max was little beyond the ability to decide and was extremely grateful that Liz had just taken control, was getting him where he needed to be and not putting any pressure on him. She was amazing. How could she expect him to live without her?

They drove in silence for a while. Liz thought about asking Max how he was doing, but she didn't want to interrupt his inner-reflection mode.

Finally, they pulled up into the parking lot, and Liz shut off the motor. She handed Max the keys. "Well, here we are." She checked her watch. "And the period isn't ever over yet. I guess I get to join my teacher-less class in the computer lab."

Feeling uneasy, and unsure of herself, Liz reached over and touched Max on the shoulder. "You know, Max, if you never need me, or just need to talk, or whatever, I would still be here for you, no matter what the status of our personal relationship." Liz could feel her face getting hot as she said that, and she knew she had to get out of there before she lost all her resolve and just melted in a puddle at his feet.

"Well, I'd better go before they catch on to the fact that a Music Appreciate student is missing. See you later, Max." Then she left, walking at a fast clip toward the computer lab for some non-confusing Web surfing before jumping into Spanish next period.

By the time she got him back to campus he was significantly more stable. He was actually prepared to face another class. He watched her leaved, took a deep breath and then collected his bag and headed to class.

*******************

Willow turned to Buffy. "Shall we get out of here?" She reached out and opened the door to the lounge, still talking as she did so. "I don't have a car here, but we could get Cordy or someone to give us a ride to the costume place in a little bit." Willow shrugged. "It's not really life or death anyway, and I'm kinda hungry. I figured we could drop by the Crashdown Cafe, where Xander works, and grab a bite to eat while we wait for the others to get out of school. Sound good?"

"Sounds good," Buffy affirmed,"I'm starved. Long bus drive will do that to you."

Willow grinned. "Well, then what are we waiting for? Let's go!"

She stepped out into the hallway, confident that Buffy was following her, and led the way to the nearest school exit. Soon they were walking along the sidewalk and making good time to their destination: the Crashdown Cafe and some yummy, alien-themed food to have for lunch.

As they walked, Willow looked over at Buffy with a wink and a smile. "So, how's married life?" Of course, they both knew that she was just being sarcastic. Buffy and Angel might be a couple, but they were definitely not married! Though sometimes they acted like an old married couple now that Angel was human, albiet temporarily, than they ever had before during his creature-of-the-night years...

Buffy smiled,"It's great, except for the fact that I can never stop worrying about him now that he's human," she said sighing."I can't help it! He's not as strong as he was when he was a vampire, but HE doesn't seem to realize it. I don't want him to get killed trying to protect," she wrapped her arms around herself, getting a chill even though the desert air was warm."I couldn't live if that happened. We've gotten so much closer, if he died...But that's not going to happen,"she said firmly to Willow."I won't let it happen."

Willow gave Buffy an encouraging smile. "I know you won't let anything bad happen to him. Or to anyone else for that matter. After all, you're Buffy. You're the thing that all the evil things are afraid of. You're the only human to make the 'Hellmouth's Most Wanted' list every year. So cheer up, Buck-a-roo!" Willow grinned. "Now, we need to get our minds off of all this serious stuff for a little while. We should talk costumes. For the festival, I mean. Did I tell you about mine yet?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right, but anyway costume detail," Buffy said importantly."You did not yet spill on what your alien garb for this evening is," she said smiling.

*******************

He got about three steps down the hallway before he finally stopped. Turning, he leaned back against the wall and waited, trying to look nonchalant about it. He was *not* a coward. When Maria came out that door, he was going to take her by the arm and convince her to go somewhere more private. They had a lot to talk about, and since there were only two class left during the day, they'd have to do it now. Because they really needed to know exactly where they stood before they met up with the gang again. Michael could take the third degree from Max and Izzy, he was used to it, but he wanted to be sure of everything first because he didn't want Maria to go through that unless they were sure that they were going to try this thing between then again. He wanted to, but he had to know that she really did, too. After all, she was the prettiest girl in the school. She could have any guy she wanted. So why would she really want to be with him?

Michael sighed, realizing once again that teen angst just didn't suit him, and waited for Maria to come out the door...

Maria stopped short as soon as she stepped out of the art room, a frown crossing her face. "Michael? I thought you had Bio. What - "

A jock elbowed her out of the way - she had been standing in the doorway, after all. Throwing him a sour look and mentally adding him to her People-to-Strangle List, she walked over to Michael and tried again. "Can't find your class?"

"We need to talk."

Michael looked around them, trying to spot a place that was a little more private than their current location. The door to the eraser room was directly across the hall from where they stood. Michael took Maria's arm and quickly slipped around the people milling in the hallway, getting them out of the line of traffic and into the dark room in under three seconds. He let go of her arm and took a step away from her once they were inside with the door closed and locked. He tried to make out her face in the dim light provided by whatever hallway light managed to filter its way through the opaque glass window on the door. The irony of this situation was not lost on Michael as he tried hard not to think too much about what they'd been doing the last time they were alone together in the Eraser room.

Michael stuffed his hands into his coat pockets and felt, not for the first time, that he was way out of his league here. He was far from good boyfriend material, anyone could see that plain as day. And trying to have conversations about his feelings and about his relationship with Maria? Well, saying he sucked at that was probably the biggest understatement of the decade. But he *had* just dragged her in here without much explanation. So it was up to him to say something.

[Might as well just say it. Being blunt is one of your only fortes.]

"What is going on here?" He frowned, trying to make himself clear. He gestured vaguely between them with one hand. "I mean, between us?" He shrugged, his hand dropping back to his side. "And what are we telling the others?"

Maria stopped short. Trust Michael to say exactly the last thing she had been expecting. "I...I don't really know," she said after a moment. Not the best answer in the world - probably one of the worst, in fact - but it was the honest-to-god truth. "About what's going on, I mean. Between us." Disjointed much. She forged ahead before she could sound any dumber. "I like being with you. I like what's going on. I just don't know."

She leaned against the wall, watching him before she spoke. She wasn't sure if she was watching her boyfriend or a dangerous animal that would turn around and bite her. That was what a relationship with Michael was, after all. It would have been rocky with any extraterrestrial, but especially with a moody, rather anti-social one.

"I think we need to take care of the new Roswellians before we 'fess up," she said finally, putting off defining her relationship until later in the fine tradition of angsty teenagers everywhere. "Maybe we can figure out the 'us' after that."

Michael frowned, thinking back to the looks that Liz and Max had both been giving he and Maria during the meeting, and the fact that Isabel had most likely seen the two of them kissing in the hallway earlier. 'Fessing up was starting to look like a non-option at this point. It seemed like everyone either already knew or was at least somewhat suspicious. But putting Max and Isabel aside for the moment - after all, Michael had over a decade's worth of experience in evading them when he needed to - Michael focused on the one person that was sure to demand answers. Liz. And he hadn't figured out how to avoid her questions yet. At least, not without pissing her off.

"Liz is going to want answers when we get to work later. She was giving me her 'I know something's up and I want details' look during the meeting." Michael crossed his arms and tried to look semi-menacing, though he only succeeded in looking frumpy. "And I doubt a debate on which Smurf was the coolest is going to distract her for long this time," he muttered under his breath, his patented scowl re-appearing on his face.

[Smurf?] Maria decided not to ask. "Have you tried Looney Tunes?" she asked, more because she didn't have a real answer than anything else.

Why did everyone have to stick their noses into his business? What he and Maria did wasn't supposed to be headline news. It was private. But for some reason, everyone seemed to want answers. He could just hear them now...

Max would say: "We need to lie low, stay below radar. And a relationship with a human is just going to draw attention to ourselves... unless of course it's MY relationship with Liz, which is the be-all and end-all of the known universe and is therefore exempt from all the rules."

Izzy would say: "Max is just looking out for your best interests, Michael. You should listen to him."

Tess would say: "But what about our destinies? You and Isabel? Me and Max? You can't just forget about that, Michael!"

Liz would say: "I don't want to see Maria get hurt again. So maybe it's best for the both of you if you stay apart. After all, human/alien relationships don't work! Just look at how things turned out between Max and I for proof."

But what about what Michael said? And what Michael wanted? And, for that matter, what about what Maria wanted? Didn't that matter at all?

"Look, forget about everyone else for now, OK? They don't control us. They don't run our lives. We make our own destiny, isn't that what we've always said?"

"That's what I've always said, anyway." Maria left off the unspoken implication that the same might not have always been true for Michael. He had, as far as she had been able to tell, broken up with her because of destiny and its attendant problems. That still rankled.

In any case, Michael didn't seem to hear her.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and began pacing back and forth, which was a lot harder than it looked when one was inside a small closet-like room. "I don't need some psuedo-parents who only care about what I can do for them telling me how to run my life! Hell, I wasn't even really born, so I don't really even *have* any parents!"

Michael continued to pace, talking more to himself now than to Maria. "Besides, even if I do have 'parents' out there, they didn't care enough to leave me a message or anything! No, once we see the message, it's just some chick talking to Maxwell the perfect and Izzy, sending them her love and support." His voice grew louder as he ranted, his hands jumping about with a kind of frenzied energy.

"They've already got the perfect family here on Earth and now they've got the perfect family there, too! And what do I get, huh? Nothing. Just like usual."

"They got the Evanses and I got Hank. They got a surburban paradise and I got trailer park trash. They got that glowly 'mom' chick and I got a big, fat nobody. Max gets Liz and I... I'm not allowed to have anyone." Looking over at Maria for the first time since he started talking, Michael's anger disipated, leaving only a sense of overwhelming sadness in its place. "They have everything, Maria. Why can't they just let me have this one thing?"

"Which is it?" Maria demanded suddenly, breaking into Michael's rant. "Explain that to me, because apparently I'm missing something. Half the time you're the one who wants to find the truth and half the time you're saying that that destiny crap doesn't matter. You want to know if there's an us, Michael? I can't answer that. You're the one who didn't want me here in the first place - and you're the one who broke up with me because of that destiny stuff."

She had been slowly moving closer with every outraged word and now she was glaring right at Michael, inches from him. Abruptly her face softened; being so close to him seemed to drain the anger out of her - and she couldn't even be annoyed at him. She had missed him so much. "You still have me," she said quietly. "No matter what 'they' say."

Realizing how much he'd just said aloud, Michael clamped his mouth shut and stopped moving around, instead focusing on the ground in front of his boot-clad feet. He didn't know what to say now that he'd already revealed so much. And he was afraid that Maria was just going to blow him off because that's what everyone in his life did, sooner or later. They found something or someone more important than him and he was left behind. It was only a matter of time.

But that didn't mean that he had to sit by and 'passively watch' like a wimpy cry-Max. He was a fighter. So he was going to fight. And where Maria was concerned, he only knew one way to do that...

Reaching out, Michael took Maria's hand in his and turned it over, tracing the contours of her palm with the pads of his fingers, making gentle circles over her skin. He could feel the sparks that were always there between them flaring to life, but he kept them under control for now. They only had a few minutes before their next classes, which were not together, so time was limited. He had to be content with this simple touch, even though he wanted more. He always wanted more where Maria was concerned. That's what had started this entire thing between them last December at the Crashdown. One kiss hadn't been enough. He'd wanted more. And apparently so had she.

But thinking of that night at the Crashdown and that kiss... that was dangerous territory. Very dangerous territory.

And again, Michael was faced with this "wanting more" issue.

Normally, he would have just kissed her, because he wanted to. He wouldn't think to ask whether or not she wanted that. He'd just act on his whims. But look where that had gotten them. Nowhere. They'd had a few moments of passion, but in the end he'd let Max and Tess and destinies and everything else control his life. Oh sure, he had acted like it was what he wanted, but it hadn't been. It had just been what was expected of him. But this time, Michael wasn't going to let someone else control his life. And the only way he knew how to do that was to try things a little differently this time, starting with Step One.

And Step One was asking, not just taking.

He took his other hand and rested it against her cheek, his fingers moving down to lightly stroke the soft skin at her neck, as the hand that held her wrist skimed up her arm and over her shoulder, resting at the other side of her neck and sliding back to bury his fingers in her soft hair. Then Michael gave the "new and improved" Step One a shot:

"Maria, may I kiss you?"

He held his breath and waited. Either this new approach was going to be an astounding success or he was just about to get slapped across the face. Michael was sincerely hoping for the former and *not* the latter. After all, Maria had a mean right hook. "I should smack you, you know that?" Maria almost laughed at Michael's look; half the time he seemed to think that she could read his mind. "We're in a closet and we're ditching class and you can't think of anything better to do?"

Before he could answer - or possibly before he could think of a glib comeback - she reached up and gave him a very definite yes.

Strawberries. Maria always tasted like strawberries and now was no exception. Michael had never really thought much about strawberries before Maria entered his life. They were just something that tasted better with tabasco sauce, much like donughts, soda pop and chocolate cake. Nothing special. But after kissing Maria for the first time, the taste of strawberries took on a whole new set of sensations and emotions for him. He'd tried eating some strawberries once over the summer after the revelation of the alien's destiny, sans tabasco and sans Maria, just to prove that they wouldn't affect him, and he'd been only half vendicated. The strawberries themselves hadn't meant anything to him. They'd actually been fairly bland and uninteresting. But the unavoidable thoughts of Maria that resulted from his little experiment had been anything but bland and uninteresting.

Needless to say, Michael hadn't had any more strawberries over the summer.

Now he was finding out what he'd been missing so much. No strawberry could match the appeal of Maria and her fruity lip gloss, which was already almost gone now. She'd have to reapply later, he supposed. Not that he had a mind to think of what she was going to be doing to fix her makeup later. He didn't really have a mind to think of anything other than what she felt like in his arms. She felt like heaven. And he felt overwhelmed.

Suddenly, there was a flash of light that Michael could see dancing across his closed eyelids and he was somewhere else. He was sitting on a porch step, watching a little girl across the street with pixie-like blonde curls and bright red sneakers. They had blue shoelaces and a kermit patch on the right shoe. She was crying and her dalmation dog was licking away her tears.

Michael had seen this before. When Maria had unknowingly given him the flashes. Why was he thinking of this now, of all times? But then the scene changed and he realized that he wasn't doing this, not intentionally anyway. It was Maria. Maybe it was being with her after all this time apart or just the intensity of the monent... but something had allowed them to *connect*. However, this felt different from the last time he'd gotten the flashes. Before it had been like watching a picture show from in the front row seats, but now it was like he'd jumped inside the screen. He was feeling things that he shouldn't, by all rights, be feeling. Things that Maria had felt over the years.

The deep sorrow she felt when her father left.

The pain she felt when she twisted her ankle in the sixth grade.

The fear she felt when she saw Liz get shot. [There was so much blood! Michael hadn't noticed that from where he was standing...]

The strange mix of confusion, annoyance, anger and attraction that she felt that night at the "nooky motel" with him, when they'd each realized that the other was more than just someone to be tolerated because of a shared secret. When she'd heard her own thoughts coming out of his mouth. "There's got to be something better out there for me than Roswell, New Mexico."

How hurt she'd been when he told her that she had gotten "too intense" at the party in the old soap factory.

How happy she'd been when she'd found the napkin holder he'd made waiting for her in her locker at school.

How embarrased and yet pleased she'd been when he told her that he'd gotten flashes from her after all.

The bittersweet feeling of extreme pleasure and heart-wrenching pain that overwhelmed her when she heard him tell her that he loved her for the first and last time.

And there was something else that was different...

It was hard to describe, but he felt like some switch had been turned on. He felt like everything that made him Michael, which was normally hidden back in the dark corners of his mind as a defense mechanism, had suddenly been thrown into the harsh, unforgiving light. It was frightening, confusing, exhilirating and somehow liberating all at once.

[What the hell is going on?]

Was she seeing something, too? He knew that Liz had seen flashes from Max before: flashes of his past, of his secrets, of his feelings for her and even flashes of the crash. But Michael had always thought that he, unlike Maxwell, wasn't capable of being that open with another person. After all, Max was perfect. He had the perfect family and the perfect life. He had nothing to hide. And Michael had *everything* to hide.

What if Maria saw what life had been like with Hank? What if she saw how much of a coward he had been, taking the years of physical and emotional abuse because he was afraid that telling someone would just result in him being taken away from Roswell... from Max and Izzy, the only family he'd ever known.

What if she saw how he felt about her? What if she saw how many times he'd sat alone at his apartment over the summer, just thinking about her and drawing her face in his sketchbook?

Michael pulled away from Maria so quickly that he almost knocked her down to the floor. He took deep breaths, trying to regain control. His knees felt like silly puty, so he reached out a hand and placed it on the nearby wall to steady himself. He was shocked to find that his hands where shaking.

[Suck it up and act like a man, dumb ass! Since when has Michael Guerin been a sissy? Shape up before Maria sees how freaked out you are!]

Michael winced, hating that he always heard Hank's voice when he felt like he'd screwed up yet again, telling him that he was worthless, not worth spit. Only good for a monthly check.

[Look, it's damage control time, Mikey. You have to make sure that she didn't see anything. That it was all in your demented little brain.]

But how does one ask their semi-quasi girlfriend if they just received potentially incriminating flashes about your past from a kiss?

"Did you... feel that?"

[Gee, can you vague that up for her a bit?]

"Did you... *see* that?"

Michael tried to look anywhere but at her, fearing what he'd see when he met her gaze. Loathing. Disgust. Pity. He didn't know which would be worse. All he could do was try to stop trembling long enough to recover control over himself. When she looked at him with something akin to horror in her eyes, he wanted to be prepared to cope.

[Stonewall. Gotta be a stonewall.]

Somehow he feared that wouldn't be enough this time...

***************

Liz stared at her computer in the computer lab with a glazed look. She really couldn't concentrate on surfing just now. She was running everything over and over in her head. Everything from last spring to the current difficulties. It didn't make any sense. How could seemingly nice people like Amy and Harmony be evil spies from another planet? It just didn't track. When she'd first met Miss Topolski, Tess and Nasedo, Liz had formed a healthy dislike, or at least a healthy suspicion, of them quickly. She just couldn't accept the idea that people she instictively liked were bad.

She was also really worried about Max. He seemed so beaten. So down. She wanted to help him so much, but she didn't want to hurt him. And part of her was afraid that's what her being with him would do in the long run, hurt Max. And that was something she wouldn't be able to forgive herself for. But to leave him with Tess. Liz shivered. Just the thought of Tess brought back her appearance at the Crashdown the night before, and their encounter at lunch and in the hallway. There was something more disturbing than ever about her. Liz tried to attribute it to simple jealousy for Max's "destined" wife, but she just didn't buy it. But there wasn't anything else for her to think, so Liz kept trying to believe the jealousy angle.

And then there were the disappearances, Mrs. Thacker most recently. Could something alien be behind it? She couldn't think of a better explanation, it was true, but could they really afford to just jump to the extra-terrestrial conclusion? Michael and the others obviously thought so.

Liz sighed, deep into her angsty, worrisome thoughts. Then the bell rang. She was slow moving as she exited the computer lab and walked to Spanish.

When she got there, it was seconds before the bell rang. She slid into a seat in the back, thankful when the teacher said the final seating chart wouldn't be made until the next day. Tomorrow she could get a better seat. She looked around and saw the back of Amy's head. Then her heart caught as she saw the back of a head so familiar. Max was in this class, too. There was a moment during the hour when Liz thought he saw her, but she wasn't sure. She didn't make a sound. The teacher did call her name in roll, but Max seemed preoccupied.

When the bell rang, Liz was out of there like a flash. She couldn't take any more stress today. Instead of heading to her next class, she went to the nurse's office. The nurse looked skeptical at her claims of stomach pains, but after a call to her mother, the nurse was conveinced to let Liz go. Liz vowed to give her mother a big thank-you hug when she saw her. It may have been only the first day, but Liz could tell that this semester was going to be even more difficulty than she'd dreamed. And it wasn't just the class work.

As she headed out of the front doors in search of some desprately-needed serenity before the afternoon (if her mother would even let her work after coming home from school) Liz thought, [Well, at least I managed to put Drama class off for another day.]

"All right, Liz, tell me what's going on." Mrs. Parker gave her daughter a look out of the corner of her eye as they drove away from the high school.

Liz sighed and slumped in her seat. "I told you. Stomach pains." She felt to look her mother gave him in return. "All right... it's actually... Max."

Mrs. Parker waited calmly.

"Well, it was just so hard to see him again."

"After the summer apart."

Liz nodded. "It's like all the breaking up pain is so fresh. And we're in several classes together. And everyone else is all mad at each other... Isabel and Michael. And Michael and Maria... I don't know what's going on there. And I just had to get out of there." She gave her mother the doe eyes. She knew her plight didn't sound half as serious to someone not in the "We Know and Alien" Club.

But Mrs. Parker just reached over and patted Liz on the shoulder. "I understand. Sort of. I had a rough break up when I was in high school. That was before your father came into the picture."

"Thanks, Mom."

Liz struggled to get her bookbag together as they pulled into the garage at the back of the building. The garage had stairs that went straight upstairs to their home, bypassing the restaurant.

"Liz."

She stopped and looked at her mother.

"This is the only time I'm doing this, honey. Next time you have issues at school, you're just going to have to tough it out."

Liz gave her mother a shaky smile. "Yes, Ma'am. I understand."

Mrs. Parker followed Liz to the stairs. "Now get up there, take off your outfit and lay down for a bit. And then you have to go to work."

"Aw, Mom," Liz whined, putting on a sick face belied by the twinkle in her eyes.

"None of that 'Mom' crap," Mrs. Parker said, shooing her daughter up the stairs. "Your dad needs his trusty assistant manager today."

"OK," Liz agreed. "But I've really got to take a shower first." She plucked at the curls in her hair. "I want to get back to normal" She kicked off his clog sandals as soon as they got in the door. "Normal is good."

"Normal is good," Mrs. Parker agreed. She pushed her daughter in the direction of the shower. "You do that, and I'll fix you a snack."

"Milk and cookies?" Liz asked.

"Sure."

With a grateful look, Liz hurried to hit the showers.

Liz took her time in the shower. She washed her hair thoroughly to get all the gel residue out. No more crispy curls for this girl. She was going back to a ponytail, and she was going to like it. Liz even used her special rose-scented shower gel, and afterwards felt somewhat more perky.

After her shower, Liz blew her hair dry and then pulled it back into a high ponytail, the perfect height that it wouldn't get in the way with the silver, bobbing antenae used in her waitress uniform. She piddled around with make up for a while, but didn't do much more than base, a dash of powder and blush and some lip gloss.

She didn't bother spritzing on any perfume. The rose shower gel had enough scent, and it wasn't like she was trying to attract a man. She had enough problems in the romance department.

Finally, Liz surrendered her terry cloth robe for her sea green waitress uniform, silver antenae and silver alien-hean apron. She slid her feet into comfy socks and shoes, and she was ready.

Liz paused in the kitchen to munch her milk and cookies and exchange small talk with her mother. By then it was after the time she would normally have gotten home from school. Feeling refreshed and ready to face the world, Liz went downstairs to the restaurant level of the building. Her father was in his office.

"Hey, Sweet Pea," he said as she came in. "Your mom said you weren't feeling the best today."

"It's better now," Liz assured him, giving him a calming smile. "No worries."

"OK, if you're sure."

"I'm sure." Liz glanced at the schedule on the wall. "Are you sure you're gonna be OK tonight without me?"

Mr. Parker nodded. "Yeah, Anges, Nancy and I should be able to handle things. It will be slow while everyone's occupied at the festival. The rush time is during the afternoon before the festival starts, so if you, Michael, Maria and Xander can handle things until then, you'll be free to go before the festival gets too swingin'."

Liz chuckled at her dad's phrasing. "OK, Dad. Sounds good. And thanks for working things out so we could all go to the Crash. I don't know about Xander, but I know Maria and Michael and I are looking forward to it." Suddenly, she thought of something. "Oh, Dad, did you decide about hiring a new waitress? I told that Jessica girl who applied last night that we'd get back to her as soon as possible."

"Yes," Mr. Parker replied, pulling the application in question out from among a stack of papers on his overly-full desk. "I've been thinking that we could use someone part time. Agnes... well, she's not the most reliable waitress, and things have been a little tight when we have to do shift juggling, especially with Maria gone and Beverly leaving."

"But Maria's back," Liz reminded him.

"True, but I think having one more person on the rotation would be a good thing," Mr. Parker said. "When you have a minute, why don't you call her, honey? One of the responsibilities about assistant-manager-hood."

Liz rolled her eyes, but good-naturedly replied. "All right, Dad. I'll squeeze that in this afternoon."

"Thanks, hon. Call me if you need anything."

Liz gave him a kiss on the cheek and then walked out into the restaurant. Things weren't too bad, yet. A couple of older men, regulars, sat near the door, and a couple of girls -- a red head and a blond Liz had never seen before in a side booth. Neither table looked like they needed anything as of yet. Liz started wiping down the counter from the lunch rush, and waited for the others to report to work so the rest of the lunch crew could go home.

*************

After School - To Be Continued

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