Joel tossed from one side to the other for at least the fourteenth time since bedding down on the floor in Olivia's room. He wanted to be closer to her. Touching her. To be certain she was breathing. To be sure she was o.k. What if she needed something and he wouldn't know? Running a hand through his dark hair, he sat up and blew out an exasperated breath. These thoughts only served to make the floor and his body that much harder and the sleeping bag that much more uncomfortable. Damn Isaac. He really had some explaining to do . . .

Glancing at Olivia, Joel finally gave up the pretense of sleeping and stood silently beside her bed. Her face . . . sometimes it seemed so familiar . . .

He picked up a strand of her silky hair and let it run through his fingers, feeling something like a memory wash through his mind in a gentle reminder . . .

He studied her face a little more intently now. She looked so extremely like her mother, as did Isaac, like his father. He silently wondered if this was due to their father's genetic makeup. The more bothersome question remained, why did he find her so hauntingly familiar?

Amazingly enough, she opened her eyes and looked directly at him, as if he had somehow conjured her into wakefulness just by wishing it so. As if she hadn't been near death tonight, and it hadn't taken a heroic effort to save her life. He stared into her smiling eyes and wondered how he would've ever survived if she had died tonight.

He was deeply relieved to see more color in her face and the knowledge that she was indeed getting better settled into his mind relieving it on many different levels. He was surprised that she looked so much better already, but then again, she wasn't exactly human . . .

On the heels of that thought, followed another. Why didn't that bother him? Shouldn't it? Try as he might to hold on to that line of reasoning, her eyes *were* open now and other matters were far more pressing . . .

Olivia's eyes filled with questions as Joel remained silent in front of her for so long . . .

Breaking out of his thoughts, he gently took her small hand in his, and knelt down beside her bed, bringing their faces close together.

Olivia: "What are you doing in here, Joel?"

Joel: (shaking his head in confusion) "Taking my life in my hands, I suspect." (passing one hand over gritty eyes) "It was Isaac's idea . . ."

Olivia: (somewhat confused) "Really?"

Joel: "Yeah."

Olivia: (uncaring about how he came to be there) "The floor must be awfully uncomfortable . . . "

Joel was struck speechless again as his mind tried to decide if she was saying what he thought she was saying . . . or not. His eyes reflected the sudden flare of passion along with the confusion . . . and the fear.

Olivia: (determined to at least dispel the confusion) "Please . . . "

Joel: ('Oh God.' There was no mistaking what she was saying now.) "Liv . . . " (closing his eyes, as instinct and common sense swirled around in his brain, each one trying to drown the other)

Olivia waited patiently for him to decide. She didn't wait long.

Joel: (hesitation melting at the insistent expression in her eyes) "O.k. . . . Maybe, just for a little while."

Joel slid into the bed beside her as gently as possible and settled her close to his side. In a few moments, Olivia was asleep once more, but not before her soul warned her mind that it had found the other half of itself . . .

Joel lie awake and wondered at how right she felt next to him, . . . sleeping and just being. And, how her skin smelled so warm and sweet. And her breath was hot where it met his skin . . . and how he must have lost his mind to be taking a chance like this. Her father was just now starting to tolerate his presence. He didn't even want to think about what would happen if they got caught . . . Being separated from her now was unthinkable . . .

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Across town, in a small rented house, a light shone from the study in the back. The man on the sofa sat contemplating the most recent turn of events with a grim expression. 'How in the hell had they found him?'

The curtains still ruffled back and forth through the open window where his late night visitor had just departed with a savage warning. Dropping his head into his hands, he wept . . . for himself, for his wife, but most especially for his son.

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Isaac watched Michelle sleeping and thought about her pretty face. It wasn't that she was so incredibly beautiful, although she was. It wasn't even that she was unique. She was just Michelle, and that was all that mattered. She knew him. She was his best friend. Other than his twin, she knew him better than anyone . . . and loved him . . .

Her strawberry blonde hair fanned out over the pillow and he couldn't resist touching the strands that were free. They were soft and silky between his fingers, and her skin was warm and satiny . . .

And, her Dad was sleeping in the next room. Icy cold blood cells thrashed around in his veins, melting quickly as they brushed up against the heated ones . . .

Abruptly, he got control of his wayward thoughts by a very thin margin, reigning in hormones that had been allowed way too much room to maneuver tonight.

Michelle woke up again in the next few minutes, sensing the very much awake man lying beside her. Glancing at her surroundings and then at Isaac, she smiled, and waited expectantly for the kiss that she was sure would come . . .

Isaac fought for a moment against the temptation, but lost gracefully. His head lowered gently, sealing her mouth with his in a kiss that held the promise of so much more . . . .

Michelle felt the warm pressure of his lips and the strong beat of his heart. Communicating need in the physical realm was so extremely simple . . . Her tongue outlined the shape of his mouth with unerring accuracy, seeking a deeper kiss . . .

Before he had time to consider the consequences, Isaac opened his mouth and pulled her curious tongue inside. Sucking . . . deeper . . . until the kiss became a joining . . . of bodies, hearts, and souls . . .

Reality and illusion met in one spectacular moment in time and for once, the two actually resembled one another . . .

It had been the longest day of his life, waiting to pick Michelle up for their date, . . . waiting for Olivia to live . . . waiting to tell Joel the whole story . . . waiting for his reaction . . . waiting for this moment . . .

Michelle's voice travelled on fine lines to his sensitive ears. The sounds she made let him know that she was not only ready for more, she needed it . . .

Isaac pulled her up closer to his body, feeling every line and curve of hers in the process. For a moment, he panicked. Wondering how in the world he would stop, but then, her body distracted him from his normal line of reasoning, and he plunged headlong into the passion that had become irresistible . . .

Michelle sensed the change in Isaac immediately . . . and as the need for him grew and spiralled out of control, she pulled him closer, almost on top of her now . . .

Her mouth watered for the taste of his, and she opened wider, drawing him ever-deeper into the kiss . . .

Magic. This was just like magic. Not rabbits and hats, but something else . . . something much more fundamental. Elemental. Michelle gave up any thought of going back now . . .

Isaac wondered briefly how this had happened. He knew they needed to wait, but right now . . . he couldn't stop . . . .

Feeling exposed beyond her wildest imagination, their thoughts and feelings completely shared, she sucked his tongue into her mouth and held it there. Applying pressure and letting go . . . seducing him completely . . .

Isaac squirmed until Michelle was completely beneath him. He could feel every centimeter of her body below his . . . He hadn't meant to do this, but he couldn't help himself . . . .

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Fear. She could taste it, in her mouth in the form of the metallic taste of blood as it flowed from the tongue she'd bitten viciously in an effort to maintain silence . . .

Frozen, she huddled in her bed, desperately trying to feign sleep in the wee hours of the morning when it should've been natural. She listened as her husband's footsteps and her own heartbeat sounded loudly in the hall and in her ears and then within the room itself. She fought ruthlessly to keep her breathing even, around aching lungs that wanted nothing more than to draw in ragged breaths in sheer terror. If she hadn't awakened, if she hadn't gone to check on the odd disappearance of her husband from their bed, if she hadn't overheard . . . .

The bed sagged under his weight as he got in quietly, trying not to disturb her. A new surge of panic assailed her already straining nerves. If he reached for her now, he'd know she wasn't asleep. She concentrated with every ounce of willpower she had in her possession on relaxing her rigid body. A few moments later, she felt muscles that wanted to cramp in protest, release and leg go. She held on fiercely to control of her body, as her mind acknowledged the enormous responsibility that now rested on her alone. Her eyes stung as tears were not allowed to form or fall. She didn't know how yet, but somehow, she would tell Joel the truth . . . before it was too late.

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Liz crept silently from her bedroom and into the darkened hallway just outside. At last glance, the clock had read almost 4:30 in the morning. Her eyes were heavy and her mind was weary, but the overwhelming need to check on her children overrode the fatigue. As she felt her way along the hall, her hand suddenly brushed against another person. There was no mistaking the warm, solid flesh of another human being . . .

The scream that tried to erupt was ruthlessly stifled as Liz sought to calm herself down and find out who was prowling the hallways of her home at this hour of the morning . . .

Maria felt Liz's hand on her side and had closed her eyes as hysterical fear had risen mercilessly from the recessed memories in her mind . . .

Both women breathed raggedly as they struggled for control and won. The lessons from twenty years ago had left their mark and would never be forgotten. Silence was a nonnegotiable issue . . .

Maria grabbed Liz's upper arms and turned her so she could see her eyes in the scant moonlight provided through the window. Without words, the thoughts travelled on the air and into the minds of each one, leaving no evidence whatsoever . . .

Twenty years. Twenty years of a friendship so close it had wrought an extraordinary form of communication between the two women. It actually went back even farther, but not at this level. This relationship defied description and its evolution had been forged from necessity and force of will with some alien genetics thrown in just to make it interesting . . .

<"What are you doing???>

<"I don't know. Let's find out.">

Maria grasped Olivia's doorknob silently and twisted it without a single sound. The door swung open and Liz and Maria both rocked back at the sight of Olivia sleeping in Joel's arms. Before either one could make a sound, Joel turned towards them with a pleading glance, asking them not to disturb Olivia . . .

Liz was torn between the shock of seeing them together this way and the happiness she felt for her daughter . . . and the clear, uncompromising concern for Olivia's well-being hadn't escaped her notice, either . . .

Deep in her heart, she knew Joel was the one for Olivia . . . There could no longer be any question, not that there had been much of one to start with . . .

Liz walked quietly to Joel's side, and whispered carefully in his ear . . .

"Be sure that you are on the floor before 6."

Joel: (wondering what in the world had saved him from certain death, nodded in agreement and something more . . . something like gratitude . . .)

Liz smiled and brushed the hair off his face before leaving as silently as she had entered.

Maria's face was filled with questions.

<"What's he doing in there?"> (The words hissed across the connection between them.)

<"I don't know.">

<"You don't know???? Don't you care?">

<"Have you stopped to consider where your daughter likely is at this moment?">

Maria's face flushed and then she looked at Liz with understanding.

<"I see what you mean. It *is* Isaac, and somehow that should scare the hell out of me, but it doesn't ."> (grimacing)

Liz smiled and knew that Maria understood. She just hoped that Isaac and Michelle were sleeping, too.