Monte Carlo Casino, Las Vegas, 2001

I slipped through the front entrance of the casino with a large group of tourists all of whom spoke German, or maybe Dutch...No, definitely German, the language of science… God I sounded like Maria, this was definitely a sign that we spent far too much time together. Well that, and we were both currently obsessing over Michael, not that there was any love/lust issues in my court, oh no, this was purely for the betterment of my sanity.

"If you stop running, everyone will die."

Apparently he had taken that little instruction to heart, because now I had to dodge security guards and the eye in the sky to find out what the hell was going on. I had tried to enter from the elevators, but had been stopped by “He of Many Gold Chains,” who promptly informed me that he didn’t believe that I was twenty-one at all. Cursing Dr. Love for dubbing me Shirley Temple the night before when he changed our IDs, I barely restrained myself from sarcastically commenting on the guard’s fashion faux pas. He looked like he belonged on the Soprano’s, like eating little brunettes was how he woke up in the morning, and my momma didn’t raise no fool…well except when it came to aliens. So I just giggled, doing my best airhead impression, and backed away slowly so as not to provoke an attack. You know, on second thought he did kind of resemble that Grizzly on…my stomach suddenly rolled and I realized this was not the time to let my mind wonder. Better to think about the dreams, those crazy, screwed up pieces of…

"We didn't know. How could we have possibly known?"

Great, just what I needed, the older versions of Michael and me duking it out for the supremacy of my brain. I broke from my German entourage, and headed towards the Craps table. Michael struck me as a dice kind of guy, controlling his fate with the toss of his hand. Try not to look conspicuous… I passed a woman in a skin tight, see through, gold gown leaning against a man with a handlebar mustache and a big hat. Did she know it was ten o’clock in the morning? I glanced around at the gamblers, their clothing ranging from shorts and t-shirts, to gowns and tuxedos. Maybe this all was just a dream, a dream within a dream. Just call me Alice in Vegas Land…

“Up until a few weeks ago I would have sworn to you that a dream was but a dream…”

“…this is your only warning before some seriously nasty shit goes down.”

Where the hell was Michael? The Craps table was minus one brooding alien, and the Blackjack and Baccarat tables showed no sign of him either. If I didn’t find him soon, I was going to scream, and that would get me kicked out of here for sure. Little Lizzie Parker, disturbing the peace, she was driven mad by alien intrigue, you know…

I nodded politely as I passed to little blue haired ladies, sliding by them into a row of slot machines to dodge a roving security guard. The clash of clinking coins and the circus-like music assaulted my ears, as machines upon machines filled my vision, their garish lights combining with the geometric pattern of the floor to make me dizzy. Geriatrics were as far as the eye could see, pumping quarters mechanically into the slots that blinked and flashed. People called this fun? The machine next to me blasted out a jingle and a flood of coins, the elderly winner desperately trying to scoop them into his cardboard tub.

“Miss…” Out of the corner of my eye I could see a security guard approaching me from the top of the row. Shit. Pretending I didn’t see him, I quickened my stride down the aisle way, careful to avoid tripping over fallen canes and purses. Ahead of me the sea of blue, white and gray parted to reveal a familiar golden brown head. His angry jabbing at the slot machine’s button seemed to have scared everyone away from the surrounding area except for one woman in her sixties with steel gray curls and leather biker chaps. As I got closer, I noticed that the tattoo on her arm had “Biker Boyz” scrawled through a heart. I smiled to myself. Wasn’t that sweet, Michael had found his soul mate…

Clearing the mirth from my eyes, but filing that image away for later, I tapped him on the shoulder, “Listen Michael, we have to— ”

Hard fingers wrapped around my upper arm, “Excuse me, Miss.”

Oh Hell. I shot Michael a vengeful look for the little smirk that graced his lips before turning my eyes upward. Dear God, it was “He of Many Chains’” clone! I forced my features to assume an innocent expression, while trying to ignore Michael’s snicker. He was going down for this. “Yes Sir, can I help you?”

“You are aware that the casino is only for those twenty-one and older.”

Why was it that no one could believe that I was twenty-one? Did I have “Minor” tattooed on my forehead while I was sleeping? Maria and Alex’s laughing faces flashed before me, and I barely resisted reaching up and feeling the skin just below my hairline. No they wouldn’t have done that to me…I just needed to play it cool. “Yes Sir, in fact I was just—”

“She was just coming to find me,” Michael interjected smoothly, wrapping his arm around my shoulders to pull me up against his side and away from the guard’s grasp. “Honey, I thought I told you to stay in the room.”

At his patronizing tone I had to physically restrain myself from slamming my heel into his toes. What game was he playing?

“She’s with you sir?” The guard had apparently ruled out the idea that we could have been siblings and from the way he was eyeing us it appeared his mind had delved into the gutter. Maria was right; Men were pigs.

Michael gave an indulgent chuckle, “What can I say Man, I like them young…”

Dear lord, how old did I look, fifteen? I discarded the idea of doing him physical harm. I didn’t want to be the one that told Maria that her on again, off again boyfriend had been irreparably damaged sexually. Besides two could play this game. I crowded into Michael’s body, angling my head against his shoulder and running my fingers playfully up and down his chest.

“But Daddy Love,” I cooed in my most breathless voice, “you promised we could play doctor an hour ago and you never showed. Surely I’m more fun than these dirty machines…”

I fluttered my lashes up at him for good measure, his face was turning bright red. I might have given the dear boy a heart attack. So sad. It would almost make it worth not knowing what these freaky dreams were about. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that the guard was looking especially titillated. That’s right buddy, you wouldn’t believe I could possibly be twenty-one, but you completely bought the idea that I was a fifteen year old sexpot. Vegas was a sick town. Since Michael appeared to be still choking on his tongue I decided to go in for the kill. “Come on Daddy Love, I’ve been having the most interesting dreams. I can’t stop thinking about what you have in mind.”

“Well then, Shirley, I’d hate for you to be kept unsatisfied,” he gritted out, his arm around me felt like iron as he started to herd me away from the other man. The guard was still watching us, and I should have known that Michael would have to have the last word because he called out over his shoulder, “Don’t worry Man, she won’t be back down here. I plan to keep her real busy.”

I was fuming. Screw it, Maria wasn’t together with him at the moment anyway. She wouldn’t care if he was sexually damaged. I waited until we cleared the front doors to drive my elbow into his ribs. I had to admit, Tess’ move had the desired result, he let go of me immediately and began rubbing his side. “Oh, so you’re going to keep me real busy, huh? What…busy listening to your explanations on why you ran from the elevator?”

“Fuck this, it’s crazy anyway,” he growled before striding up the street towards the Bellagio. Oh hell no, he wasn’t getting out of this that easily. I ran after him, I had to know what happened to us. We had to figure out what was going on. Cursing my shorter legs and his head start, I finally caught up to him in front of the Boardwalk, the crowd taking pictures of their family members up in the giant Ferris Wheel blocking his way.

“So do you always refer to yourself as Mikey in your dreams?” That was great, I opened my mouth, and any tact I ever had promptly headed for the hills.

“In your fantasies does Max always have long hair and wear leather?” He shot back. My heart felt like it had stopped beating. How had he seen a flash of Future Max? I hadn’t been dreaming about him.

“Any dreams of Max like that are nightmares,” I murmured aloud without thinking. It brought home the real reason why I hated Las Vegas all over again. This was the place I was supposed to get married, this was the place where the future took a turn towards the deadly, this was the place of my broken dreams. I had to blink back tears. Why the fuck was I doing with this pigheaded alien when I really should have been talking to Max.

“What do you mean by that, Liz?” Michael’s subdued tone brought me from my thoughts to find that he had maneuvered us through the crowd and in front of a car rental place. The sunlight glinted off the hoods of cars built for speed, splashes of red and silver showing among the lethal looking black.

“Mean by what? It’s nothing.” This wasn’t about Future Max, it was about the dreams. We had to talk about the dreams. “Why did you run away when we mentioned Freud?”

Michael ran his hand through his hair, turning away from me to take in the cars and the tourists mobbed around them. “Maybe I don’t like old dead guys.” He shrugged clearly uncomfortable, “Hey, want to rent a Viper and go for a ride?”

“Well you know that old dead guy would just say you were compensating for something with that car,” I told him trying to lighten the mood.

“I don’t have to compensate for anything,” he smirked, but it was a pale imitation of the one I had received earlier.

We stood there for a minute, awkwardly taking in the people and the cars, each trying to think of the right thing to say, the right way to explain. A fine tension began to play along my nerves, stretching them, knotting my muscles, someone had to break the silence. “Michael, we…uh…we need to talk about what happened.”

“Yeah, I know. Just not here.” He looked at me for a long moment before grabbing my hand and pulling me with him through the masses that filled the side walk. Stumbling along behind him, I was about to ask where we were heading when I felt a cool mist brush my skin. In front of us the Bellagio fountains rose majestically. Avoiding a group of picture snapping Japanese, he led me around to the side facing the hotel. “Listen Liz, I don’t understand it but—”

“Oh My God! There you are!” Maria’s breathless scream cut off whatever he was going to say as she came dashing out the hotel doors. “Brunch was a total bust, but Isabel and I caught the monorail and decided to go shopping for tonight…”

It wasn’t until he dropped my hand that I even realized he had been holding it the whole time. My fingers felt cold suddenly, and I wrapped my other hand around them to regain some warmth. How I could have felt cold when it was eighty degrees out, I don’t know. We both turned to face Maria.

“…Spaceboy, Liz, you’ll never guess what’s happening, they’re filming some movie inside called ‘Ocean’s Eleven’ and I saw Brad Pitt and Matt Damon—Oof!”


 

*****

In her huge hurry to tell us something, Maria ran into some bald headed man smoking a cigar. Dammit Maria, could you at least watch where you’re going?

“Oh God, I’m such a klutz. Are you okay?” I heard her ask him as she reached down to grab the glasses that she’d knocked off his face. “But hey, nothing’s broken at least…”

I watched Maria's face as she apparently recognized this stupid looking bald man from somewhere. Her look of pure joy could mean only one thing – she was standing in the very presence of a "star."

“You’re Kal Langley!” she screamed.

Were my ears bleeding? Tell me they weren’t.

"Oh my god!" She tore open her purse and started frantically rummaging through it.

"Can I please, please have your autograph?" Maria shrieked as she handed him a scrap of paper. I didn’t think the human register could go that high.

"Sure, whatever, kid." He quickly signed the paper and with a look in my direction, handed it back to Maria.

Maria grinned and held his autograph up for my inspection. "Isn't it fantastic, Michael? My mom is going to be soooo jealous."

I peered closer at the slip of paper, pulling it out of her hand for a moment. Kal Langley. Well, hoo-friggin-ray. As I handed the paper back to Maria, a set of images suddenly appeared in front of me.

Stars, desert, screeching metal…

I shook my head, slowly. What the hell? I looked up for Kal's figure, but for a moment I was surrounded by women on a shopping high. In fact, I was so intent on finding him in the crowd that I didn't even realize Maria was talking to me until she grabbed my arm to get my attention. Well, that and I just tended to tune her voice out occasionally. Frequently. Okay, okay…. all the fucking time. It’s not my fault she was a babbler.

"So, anyway Spaceboy. I'm done with you monopolizing Liz's time here. Isabel and I have set up a fancy dinner that we're all going to tonight." Maria told before turning to Liz and latching on to her hand. "That means, chica, we're going dress shopping!" Liz gave Maria a small grin, but returned her questioning eyes to me.

"You can have her, Maria. I gotta go find Maxwell anyway." I shrugged. "You know, time for Doctor Love and Rob Roy to go and tear shit up."

Maria rolled her eyes at my comment, but the lure of shopping must have proved far too great because she began to pull Liz off in the direction of the Bellagio shops instead of making a sarcastic comment. Liz looked like she was trying to tell me something with her eyes, but I ignored her. The little bit of insanity that had possessed me to try and enter into a conversation with her about some insane flickers of my imagination had been broken by Maria’s entrance. Finally, a moment of peace. Free from Parker, Maria and those crazy-ass dreams. It was time to visit Vegas, baby.

But, first, I needed to find that Kal guy and see why exactly I got a flash from his autograph. Well, maybe not a flash, maybe I was just losing it. In fact, this was all probably some kind of post traumatic stress syndrome after Arizona. Still I couldn't seem to stop my eyes from scanning the crowds anyway, looking for that Hollywood guy so I could figure out what was going on.

"Michael…"

I sighed, turning to find Liz just a few feet from me. She was just standing there, that look still in her eyes. Maria had already wandered a few steps away, but I lowered my voice anyway. "C'mon Parker, can't you just let things lie for once in your life?" I gave her a pointed look in return, hoping she'll get the hint that all this dream bullshit could wait until we got back to Roswell. I turned my back on her and started to walk away.

"Go find that guy, Michael. I felt it too." I spun around to face Liz again, surprise evident on my face. She sighed. "I know you want to go, but just do this one thing. Please?"

Whether I moaned or growled in frustration, I don’t remember. I reached out and grabbed Liz's arm and quickly pulled her into the Bellagio's side doorway. "What exactly did you feel Liz?"

"You just had a flash from Kal Langley," She hissed at me. "I felt it, just like you did. But you've made it perfectly clear that you don't want to figure out what's going on here with us, so fine, we won’t. Now will you let go of my arm, Michael? People are going to think that we're in some sort of lover's spat or something, when we all know how you find my presence annoying." She wrenched her arm from mine and before I could do anything, Liz was already stomping back down the Bellagio hallway towards Maria.

I stood there, resisting the urge to smash my head against the wall or blow something up, as wild and crazy as Vegas was purported to be, I didn’t think it would be acceptable behavior. Or go unnoticed for that matter…

"Liz!" I called out.

She halted her stride mid-step and turned to look at me. She didn’t seem surprised. I motioned for her to come back, but she shook her head at me. God damn it, this girl was frustrating. Gritting my teeth, I quickly walked up next to her. "Listen. Just go with Maria, I'll go back to the hotel and talk to Max."

Liz thought about it for a moment, her face suddenly pensive and scared. What was up with that? I thought she and Max used to tell each other everything. “Michael, don't tell him exactly what's going on. Just, uh… probe around the surface?"

I shrugged, I would never understand women. She wanted to talk about our situation but not share it with our alien king. In my mind I saw the picture of Max with the long hair and leather jacket. Earth girls were definitely weird. “Fine. If you’ll promise that we’ll leave this alone until we get back to Roswell. This is Las Vegas, Liz. The place of fun and debauchery, it’s not the place for some fucking alien crisis!”


 

* * * * *

I. Hate. Men. Correction: I. Hate. Michael. For about two point five seconds I actually thought that Michael and I might be able to figure out what was going on, but then the semi-thoughtful guy who brought me to the Bellagio fountain disappeared behind a Hollywood smoke screen. Or, better yet, given our situation, an alien smoke screen. After what happened with the mutual flash from Kal Langley, one would think he would see the need to investigate, but no. “This is Las Vegas Liz,” I mimicked, “The place of fun and debauchery…Well debauch this Michael Guerin.”

I really would have flipped him off if he was still standing behind me, but apparently he’d taken off to go bond with Max. Who coincidently was the last person I wanted to see after learning that Michael had gotten a flash of his future version. Maybe the electrical pulse thrown off by the lights of Vegas were too much for our systems.

“Hey Liz, whatcha mumbling to yourself about,” Maria’s voice intruded into my thoughts. I hadn’t even realized that I had caught up with her.

“Nothing,” I replied, I didn’t need to start a conversation with her about how much a jerk her ex-boyfriend was, we’d had it a million times already.

“Don’t give me that, chica,” she said pulling me to a stop in the middle of the lobby. “It was Michael wasn’t it? Did he drag you out here to tell you off? Because if he did let me tell you, Spaceboy’s got some obvious issues and if he just got to know you better—"

“Maria! It’s nothing, really.” I forced a smile on my lips, “I’m just sad because it’s Vegas, the place where I was supposed to be married, and now Max and I are barely on speaking terms.”

It was partially true, I told myself as I forced my eyes to not waver from my best friend’s. Maria was a lot sharper than she let on to most people though, and I was pretty sure that she didn’t believe me. Fortunately the subject was tabled as Isabel called out to us from her spot at a lobby sitting area, “Oh, you found her, that was quick. Well, hurry up you two, I managed to get an appointment at Chanel and if we don’t find what we’re looking for there they also have a Giorgio Armani. God, I love this town.”

“Me too,” Maria agreed, “I love the way it’s always moving. I imagine New York must feel a little like this.”

“New York?” I asked, “You mean like New York, ‘I’m infested with Dupes’ New York?”

“Noooo Liz, I mean New York, Musician’s Paradise New York.” Her eyes seemed to glow with the possibilities that far off city held for her. “Home of Broadway, New York.”

“That’s New York, New York, just so everyone’s clear,” Isabel intoned as she led us towards Lake Bellagio and the shopper’s heaven that lay along its banks. “Oh and the Bellagio has an eighteen and under policy so try not to draw too much attention.”

“Oh well, we’re out of luck there Is, apparently I look like a fifteen year old Lolita,” I informed the other girl thinking back to my escapade in the casino, which inevitably brought my thoughts back to Michael. God, he pissed me off! I shouldn’t be shopping, I should be finding out what was going on…

Isabel snorted and looked down at my top, “Fifteen year old Lolita’s don’t wear Versace.”

Maria just ignored us both, still caught up in her imagination, “Can’t you see me up on stage Liz, singing and dancing? People chasing me for autographs and not the other way around…”

When we were little we used to talk about what we were going to be when we grew up. Maria was going to be a Broadway star with a lucrative recording contract on the side, and I was going to teach Molecular Biology at NYU so that we could share an apartment in Greenwich Village. Future Max never told me if either of us got to fulfill those dreams, though I doubt I was living in Greenwich if I was a nineteen year old bride. What had I given up in that last lifetime? In the end, had I though it was worth it? Maybe it’s for the best… Max’s words echoed in my mind. Maybe we would all get a chance to experience our own dreams, live out our happiness.

“I found this flyer for a singing audition and got Alex to agree to accompany me,” I heard Maria say, she was looking right at me like she knew what I had been thinking. “This could be my big break.”

We made our own destiny. We were in charge.

“Well then, we’ll have to get you some great clothes to wear,” Isabel broke in, gesturing to the elegant shop open before us. “So let’s get started.”

Turning to one of the elegant women standing to her right, she introduced herself and immediately began rattling off our sizes and needs. How Isabel knew what sizes Maria and I wore could only be the result of her aliens powers or far too much time reading Cosmo. I started to ask Maria which she thought it was, but she was whisked away by a woman bearing a pile of glittery clothing. They were efficient here at Chanel, that’s for sure.

My own personal clothing Nazi…I mean, helper led me to a private sitting room with three curtains hanging over openings in the walls, “You friend mentioned that would like a little privacy while trying your items on. I’ve already started a small selection of evening gowns in the third dressing room, so you can go ahead and begin. Would you like some cucumber water or tea?”

Having never been shopping anywhere nicer than the Albuquerque Mall, my head was spinning from the opulence. I felt a little like Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman”, only I wasn’t a redhead…or a prostitute for that matter. I could hear Isabel and Maria rustling around in their own rooms. Great, I was blown away, and they were getting busy. Two to one odds that they would yell at me for being so slow. Stripping my clothes off, I grabbed the first red dress off the hook and stepped into it quickly. I didn’t bother looking in the mirror to check out the fit. I really didn’t care about buying a dress that would cost the same as all my college books for my freshman year classes. I was here for Isabel and Maria, I was here because I was avoiding Max. I tied the straps behind my neck. I was here because Michael didn’t want to talk about what was happening.

“Liz! Hurry up!” Maria called out. Brushing my hair out of my face, I tried to ignore the feeling that I was responding like a trained circus monkey and thrust my way through the curtain. Immediately a smile lit my face, bitch as I may, Maria looked good in her caramel colored top and brown striped skirt. “Very elegant.”

“The same goes for you Chica,” Maria bubbled, “You have got to get that dress. It’s gorgeous.”

“My brother won’t be able to keep his hands off of you,” Isabel added. I took in her all black attire. The leather bustier looked very Zena, and yet she managed to pull the look off. Isabel Evans, Alien Valkyrie. Briefly I wondered if that was what Alex saw when he looked at her and I shuddered. I didn’t like to think that my best guy friend was into S & M.

Shaking my head to clear the blinding thought from my mind, I walked over to the standing mirror to get a look at this “oh so sexy” dress I was wearing. Taking in the V-neck front that exposed entirely too much of my chest, and the clingy deep red fabric that fell past my knees, I felt a little niggling in the back of my mind. The dress seemed so familiar to me. Racking my brain for what magazine it must have been in, I turned my head over my shoulder to take in the drop back.

“Oh God…” I murmured. I remembered now…

“Take it from me, it’s definitely out of this world,” the Isabel joked, but I barely heard her. The dress now clinging to my skin, the dress that the two other occupants in the room liked so much, was the very same dress the future me had been wearing in my dream. Suddenly I felt a little faint…


 

* * * * *

Fuck this.
       
I'd been wandering around the Strip for over an hour now, but I hadn't seen Kal Langley's shiny chrome dome since he gave Maria his autograph. I had traveled across the street to Caesars Palace, then over to Bally's, Paris, and for good measure, I scouted around the Bellagio casino once more. Nothing. It was like he disappeared.

So, it was official: I had wasted an hour of my life, an hour where I could have been gambling or having fun, but nnnnnnoooooooo. Parker and her big brown doe eyes had to keep invading my brain, pleading with me to find a guy who probably wouldn’t know an alien from a special effect.

But now? Fuck this. I was going back to the casino, finding Max, and we were going to have some fucking fun in the town or else. Yeah, yeah, and in addition, I was planning on talking to Max about the dreams. Screw “probing around the surface.” It was not like this crap really meant anything… I mean, it was probably the stress of the last couple of weeks fucking with our brains, but to be on the safe side, I really did need to talk to Max. You know, far be it for me to forget to inform mine liege of my every move.

I flicked a glance at the people around me on the strip as I walked, all these idiots here trying to make a quick buck and while I was here to lose it all. The irony was amusing, but it’s not like I had anyone to share it with. I stared straight ahead as I passed the idiotic Boardwalk casino, making my way to the Monte Carlo and considering the mindlessness that it offered within its very walls. Maybe this really was all stress related, or a the curse of the money. Maybe I didn't need to talk to Max about our dreams after all, maybe all I needed was to get my thoughts away from everything alien related.

This was my chance to bond with Max, my supposed best friend. Never mind the fact that I'd been feeling more and more alone with every alien incident that came down the pipe. Max was too busy trying to impress Liz, Tess was too busy trying to impress Max and Isabel was too busy trying to impress the boyfriend of the month. And as for Maria, she was too busy sniffing her oils and dreaming dreams I could never be a part of…

Aw, you know what? Fuck this.

I took the stairs in front of the Monte Carlo two at a time in my rush to find Max and stop thinking about all this bullshit. Grabbing the gold plated handle, I swung the front door open and strode inside before I could think of anything else concerning “Universal” matters. The sounds of beeping machines, money dropping onto metal pans and cheering blue haired grandmas filled my ears, while I blinked and waited for my eyes to adjust to the darker lighting.

"Hey, Michael! Wait!"

I heard a voice call out and I reluctantly turned back around towards the front doors. Max caught up to me, huffing and puffing slightly. "Damn, Michael. You were walking like a man possessed! I've been trying to catch up with you since you walked out of the Bellagio!"

I grinned at Max, who was leaning against a wall weakly. "So, you finally were able to get rid of that nasty growth you've been sporting the whole trip, and now you’re ready to have some fun?"

"Huh?" Max wheezed.

"You know… that growth. I think it's referred to as 'Tess'…" I gave Max my patented smirk as he finally pushed away from the casino wall.

"Very amusing, Michael."

"I know, I try." I pointed to the rows of various casino tables spread out before us. "You wanna go and try our luck at the tables today, Mr. Roy?" I rubbed my hands together, trying to build up some excitement and looked over at Max, who was trying to put an interested expression on his face.

"C'mon, Maxwell. This is Las Vegas, you know…"

"…the place for fun and debauchery. I remember your speech from last night, Michael." Max quietly stated.

I grabbed him by the arm and practically dragged him to the nearest Blackjack table. "Sit." I pointed to an open chair. Max gave me a dirty look, but sat anyway. "We're gambling now."

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a hundred dollar bill and handed it to the dealer. The dreams could definitely wait till later. "Can you change this for my friend and I?" The dealer nodded and gave Maxwell and myself 50 dollars each in chips.

"Uh. Doctor Love? I don't want to gamble right now." Maxwell handed over all of his chips to me and got up from the table. Gritting my teeth, I pushed our combined pile to the dealer as a tip, jumped up from the table and followed Maxwell to the hotel elevators corridor. He stood there looking pissy, waiting for the doors to open so he could go back to the room.

"What's your problem, Maxwell?" I asked him as I mentally congratulated myself for not strangling him.

He response was to sigh and look off into the distance. "Michael, I can’t do this right now. I have too much on my mind. I'm losing her."

Jesus Christ. How sad was it that I didn’t even have to ask who “her” was? We were in Las Vegas and the boy can only think of Parker and his apparent loss. Never mind that she’d dropped him months ago…right before those rumors started circulating that she’d slept with Kyle, if I remembered correctly. Although who ever believed that bit of nonsense had to have an IQ of ten. I took in Maxwell’s hound dog expression. If he wasn't my friend, I would seriously consider kicking his ass just based on the principle of it all.

"Maxwell, I hate to inform you of this, but you lost Liz a long time ago." I ran a hand through my hair as an attempt to calm down. "You know, if you even paid the tiniest bit of attention to her instead of focusing on the past, you'd realize that there's something strange going on. Liz told me today that she's been having weird dreams. And besides that I got this—"

"Well, thanks a lot, Michael!” he interrupted, “You know, I try to open up to you and all you do is shut me down and…"

Maxwell looked up at me when the words I had just spoken finally seeped into his thick skull. I should really time that process someday. "… what did you say?"

I sighed, I knew this was going to happen with him. I should of told Parker that if she had a problem, she could talk to him herself. Hell, Maxwell probably would have pissed his pants in pure happiness if she did. Damn that Parker. This wasn’t my war, I was here for some relaxation. "I said, that Liz has been having weird dreams. She thinks that they could be important."

"Since when does Liz bring her concerns to you?” The little vein in his temple was starting to thump as he clenched his jaw.

"Probably ever since you became bestest pals with Tess." I shrugged. "At least she knows that I'll actually do something about them." Eventually…

"You know that I don't feel anything for Tess! I love Liz and I wish she would love me back," Maxwell protested.

"Oh yes, our wonderful King – too busy worrying about some piece of ass to help his fucking people!" I shouted at him, not caring if we were starting to gain the attention of several people walking by.

"Whatever, Michael. That's bullshit and you know it." Maxwell's eyes flashed as he suddenly was right in my face. “Liz knows that I’d listen to her. She knows I’ve forgiven her for Kyle. You’re just jealous of what we had, what we’ll have again.”

Maybe it was a flashback of the same violence in Hank's eyes, the frustration over Maxwell’s pigheadedness, or the closeness of his body to mine, but whatever it was it caused my fight-or-flight instinct to kick in. As was true in most cases not involving a female demanding commitment, I chose to fight, placing both of my hands squarely on Maxwell's shoulders and pushing him back as hard as I could.

"Damn it, Michael! What the fuck’s wrong with you?" He hit the other side of the wall with a thump and I saw the motion of his arm starting to swing up towards my jaw. Hank used to have more form and speed, Maxwell was all over the place. Unfortunately, I never had the time to duck or move out of the way because the punch was effectively blocked by a Mr. T look-alike wearing 10 pounds of gold chains.

In fact, I never even got the opportunity to smirk at Max because he was effectively pushed to the wall as another Mr. T clone caught hold of both of my arms and pinned me to the floor next to a gold colored trash can.

"It's policy of the Monte Carlo Hotel and Casino to immediately remove all patrons that engage in uncivilized behavior and transport them to the Las Vegas Police Department's holding cells." One of the two Mr. T twins calmly stated as they began to haul Maxwell and myself out of the casino.

"We hope you enjoy your time there."

Maxwell shot me a dirty look as we were roughly shoved into a police car. I shrugged as best as I could with my hands in cuffs behind my back.

Vegas, Baby, Vegas.


 

* * * * *

Room 214, Coos Bay Queen’s Clover Motel, Oregon, 2009

“…this is a test of the Emergency Broadcast System…”

Liz tried to shut her ears to the harsh squeal of the television. Seventeen hours and nine minutes…They had been on the road seventeen hours and nine minutes, and Isabel had driven the entire time. Death Valley to Coos Bay, California to Oregon. She had stopped only twice: once for a bathroom break that could not be put off any longer by any of them, and once when the van’s engine started producing great clouds of white smoke. That had happened early on, that was when she had made the unilateral decision that they would keep moving, that they would just use their powers to keep the van together. No one had thought to argue, the panic in her expression indicated that she was barely hanging on to her sanity. And there were her words, “She’s in my head, if we stop she’ll find us…I can’t get her out of my head.” Better to get as far away as possible, better to be safe and live to try again some other day…

“…Yet another plan for Universal Health Care was introduced in the House…”

Plan C should have worked. They had been counting on it to work. It should have been simple for Isabel to slip through Jim’s unconscious mind and connect to his son’s, slip in the backdoor using the father/child bond. Lonnie shouldn’t have been able to monitor the unconscious man and still lurk at the edge of Liz and Michael’s own attempt, she shouldn’t have had the energy to. Just like Tess shouldn’t have had the energy to mind warp Alex for months without strain? She had though, she had slipped into Isabel’s mind as quite as an asp, and twice as deadly. Liz could see the malignance eating away at her, the fear of sleeping, of leading Lonnie to them. It had driven her to take two “No Doze” to stay awake at the wheel. She shuddered to think what would have happened if a cop has pulled them over, the blonde girl’s twitching and shuddering had been obvious and long lasting. It was a miracle that she had been able to keep the van on the road.

“…Did you take the pill today…?”

“…Once more unto the breach…”

Liz wondered if Isabel was also haunted by the same thoughts that transversed her own mind. Don’t think about why Jim’s unconscious, don’t think about the possible tortures the Skins have put them both through, don’t think about what could happen next. She had not slept on the long two hundred mile stretches of US-95 or I-5 N though her body had cried out for rest, but not even the buck and shudder of a van pushing a hundred could clear the thoughts from her mind.

“…Lincoln Mercury has the car for you…”
       
“…McDonalds, we love to see you…”

“…Nyquil will help you get your…”

God she needed to get some sleep, to let her mind and her body shut down. She was having trouble keeping her connection with Michael closed so he wouldn’t suffer too. She had been sure that they would stop in Ashland or Grants Pass, but Isabel had just kept driving, possessed by the need to get to the coast. Maybe she prayed that the clean air would drive Lonnie out. She certainly didn’t seem any more relaxed as she sat on the bed next to Liz, flipping through the ninety free cable channels the motel provided along with the vibrating beds. Somewhere deep inside Liz smirked at the fact that she didn’t have to bother paying the seventy-five cents, the restless tapping of Isabel’s right foot against the blankets vibrated throughout the entire mattress, and up into her cotton wrapped brain. She wondered if the other girl would try to stop if she asked.

“…Frankly Scarlet, I don’t give a…”

“…with the Jensen Ab Toner, you can…”

“…and now back to our…”

“…you built a time machine out of a DeLorean…”

Time travel, that’s what it all came down to, the ability to go back and try to fix the mess they had made once again. She sometimes felt like asking if this time was worse than before, or if all the events were par for course. They couldn’t go back without learning how to run the Granolith that Tess had so thoughtfully returned before blowing herself up. Alex was dead this time around though, no help from him, which meant the only other person left who could figure out how to run it was…

“…back by sundown…”

“Jesus, how can it take so long with the combination of your mental capabilities to find one damn woman. I think it’s a pretty reasonable thing to ask, seeing as I leave you two alone together for hours on end,” her husband’s voice cut across the room. Beside her, Isabel flinched, but never stopped channel surfing, the caffeine running through her alien blood making it impossible to hold still.

“…Einstein’s theory of Relativity was the result…”

“…Emergency crews have been unable to locate any survivors…”

“Did you ever consider our inability to find Serena might be linked to the fact that the future you was so fucking closed mouthed.” At Michael’s harsh reply Liz turned her head to take in the two men huddled around a map on the rickety motel table. Pain shot behind her eyes at his tone. He was supposed to bring up the idea of astral projection as way to contact their younger selves, he was supposed to get Max to listen, but…

“…I don’t know how to say this…”

“…Start your engines…”

“…Promise to honor and obey…

“Maybe Liz didn’t think to ask the right questions.” This time she was the one to flinch. Michael’s jaw just tightened in response. A surge of his anger overwhelmed her guard for a moment, and she had to battle it back.

“…Flood warnings have been issued in the Northwest tonight…”

“…Now for a limited time…”

“Liz isn’t the one at fault here. She just got caught up in the whole mess. Now the way I see it, all we currently know, at all, is this: everything goes to shit in 2014, so bad that the Skins are able to kill both Isabel and myself and we’re forced to send you back in time to save our asses. So it looks like we have another five years to get it together before we waste another fucking lifetime….So are you going to listen to me.” She could tell Michael was trying to calm himself down, counting to ten like Maria had tried to teach him all those years ago. Maria…The pain was traveling further back into her head. Migraine. Just tune it out, tune it all out…Rest…

“…The world is complicated…”

“…And like that…he’s gone.”
       
“…seventy-five percent of us have gum problems…”

“…It were as if we had no fear, as if we were already dead…”

“…Serena Winston, noted physicist…”

“…Sam Beckett stepped into a quantum accelerator and vanished…”

“…Now for a limited time…”

What? Serena Winston? Jesus, Serena Winston! “Isabel give me the controller.”

Glazed eyes stared at her uncomprehendingly, even as Liz clenched her hands around the little black box, growling, “Give me the God damn remote.”

“…3.5 cash back with the purchase of…”

She didn’t notice that the Michael and Max had stopped yelling at each other, that they were watching her strangely, uncomprehendingly. She had to get back. Had to hear what the announcer was saying. Serena…Shit, what channel was it on? “Jesus Isabel, were you going up or down?”

“Up.” She spared no notice of the other girls shocked tone, of the sets of male eyes boring into her body. She had to know, had to find out…

“…unknown force to change history for the better…”

“…and now on to the local weather…”

No, no, no…It had to be there somewhere, on a different channel…

“…overwhelming the powers that be with the force of our passion for science…”

“Welcome back to Fox News…”

Yes, this was it. Please God, please… “Liz, what’s wrong?”

“Everyone, shut the fuck up!” Didn’t they see, hadn’t they heard… “Listen…”

She pointed to the screen, pointed to the picture of the shy looking woman with red hair.

“Topping our national news of this hour is the death of one of America’s up and coming physicists. Serena Winston was found in her apartment this morning, killed during an apparent robbery attempt. While police have not released the cause of death, Fox has learned that the circumstances were highly unusual. Miss Winston became noted in the scientific and math communities in 2003 when she was able to prove Fermat’s Last Theorem in only twelve steps with a new mathematical equation she had discovered, simplifying the work done by Andrew Wiles in 1994. The youngest professor to ever be hired by the Harvard Physics department, she was best known for her work regarding Einstein’s theory of time travel. She is survived by her father, Dot Com Wizard Tony Winston, her mother Anna, and her adopted sister Ava…”

For a room that had been so completely filled with noise, it was suddenly dead quiet but for the rumble of the newscaster.

“In other news…”