The smile that lit up Liz’s face was rewarding. “Have some lemonade. Joey and Kyle made it,” she said pointedly.

“Oh,” Alex raised his eyebrows. “They did, did they? Any puckering involved, I mean, other than the lemon-tasting kind?”

Liz nodded and smiled conspiratorially. “Joey was blushing when they came out.”

“Ah- sure sign of impending romance with one of the dark, brooding Evans’ clan. Of course, not my Izzy,” Alex leaned back and set his elbows on the table. “She’s more the blusher than the blushee, if you know what I mean.”

Liz rolled her eyes and looked over his shoulder at something. Alex turned to see a basketball come into view over the brick wall for a moment. “They’re playing basketball.”

Her impish grin intrigued Alex. “And...”

“You obviously haven’t seen her play. Joey’s gonna’ skunk him. And Kyle has absolutely no idea what he’s in for.”

“Well, as much as I love that idea, I have to ask: where’s Justin?” Liz gave him an assessing look and he started backpedaling immediately. “It’s just that I thought he and Joey had that whole made-from-opposite-DNA thing going on You know... the, uh...thing that Max and Tess had.” Alex trailed off as Liz‘s eyes got a troubled expresssion.

Great, Whitman. Mentioning psychotic ex-mates is always a fail-proof plan for cheering up best friends. “Sorry. Shutting up.”

Liz pushed her hair behind her ear. “No, I just- I keep wondering the same thing. I mean, Max said that Justin and Joey are mates, in the way that all of their people have mates. But they don’t really know what that means. Is there just one person out there for them? Or is it more open-ended than that?” Alex did his best to read her mind, since she wasn‘t spelling it out for him. In this case, not too hard.

“So,” he began tentatively. “You’re wondering if maybe you and Max just CAN’T be together because you‘re DNA don‘t match, and if Larry’s attack was just one more way fate has of showing you that Max and Tess were meant to be together after all?”

Liz stared at him in amazement. “Yeah, wow. That was, like, exactly what I was thinking.”

“Okay,” Alex sat up straight and waved his hands in disgust. “That’s a load of crap, Liz. I know you must be blocking Michael, or he’d be screaming his head off at you right now. Tess was a scheming, manipulative and, by the way, very dead alien when Max met her. He could never have been with her, no matter what his genes told him. And the same goes for Joey and Justin. Yeah, the genes are there. But you heard what she told him at the wedding- or wait, no maybe you didn’t.” He paused. “I think it may have been when you were healing Max, but Justin came up and got all ‘Fred Flintstone’ on Joey when he saw Kyle’s arm around her. And Joey was none too pleased. She had this death ray thing shooting right out of her eyes and she said, ‘No one owns me.’”

Liz’s smile was a mile wide. “Wow. So that’s why she’s been avoiding him.”

“Yeah,” Alex reached for a glass of lemonade. “I hope Justin gets wall-to-wall carpeting in that doghouse. He might be in there for a while.”

******

Okay, this was getting ridiculous. Kyle had never been down 17-8 in a game of one-on-one before. At least, not that he could remember. Of course, he had never had half of his mind taken up in sheer, blissful appreciation of his opponent before, either.

Joey was poetry in motion on the court. Her lay-ups were smooth, her stride was long, and man, he had never seen vertical leap like that on a chick before. Now, if she was a total Spike, he wouldn’t give it a second thought. But even sweaty, she had this glow to her skin and the way her dark curls sort of clung to her neck was really cute. And he recognized the same kind of hunger lighting up her dark brown eyes that he saw in himself- the hunger to win.

Kyle found her lunging at interesting places, bumping into him and fouling as though her life depended on getting that ball in that hoop. She had the same mean moves as her brother, but they were a lot more attractive on her, that’s for sure.

He let her fake him out and swung around to watch her gracefully take three steps and put the ball up neatly against the backboard, where it rolled the rim and sank in the hoop.

“Let’s see,” she calculated with a smug look. “That’s 19-8. Ready to go to the loser’s bracket, Valenti? All I have to do is sink two free shots.”

Kyle just grinned and positioned himself under the basket. “Oh, right.”

He watched as she clutched the ball, bent over and studied the basket for a moment. Her eyes were so serious, and so beautiful. She lifted the ball up, one hand under, one hand guiding it from the back.

“Anyone ever tell you that you have great legs,” Kyle timed his comment just as the ball was released from her hands, causing a jerk of surprise that sent her shot high over the backboard.

Joey’s eyes quickly turned from open amazement to narrow suspicion. Kyle put a hand over his mouth in mock horror. “Did I do that?”

“Just get the ball, Valenti,” she snapped, turning away in what Kyle suspected was a lame attempt to shield herself from further verbal tactics. But he had a million of ‘em, and it should be easy work to reduce her to a quivering mound of unable-to-make-a-basket Joey jell-o.

He retrieved the ball with a sudden startling realization. This was the way Liz had always made him feel. Like she just might one-up him, like she was unpredictable in a totally, frustrating, wonderful way. And Joey was just like that. Except Joey wasn’t Liz. And the amazing thing was, Kyle was okay with that. Joey didn’t have to be Liz. Joey was... well, she was Joey. And with legs like that... Kyle shook his head.

“What,” Joey was frowning at him as he handed her the ball. “You still don’t think I can beat you?”

“Nah. I know you can. Any girl with curves like you can play me and win,” he smirked at her wide eyes again.

Her eyes followed his hand as he scratched at his chest up under his ragged-out wife beater. Those spots were still driving him crazy.

“Kyle, have you remembered anything,” Joey changed the subject so abruptly, Kyle almost got whiplash.

“What,” he finally managed.

“Those scabs on your chest,” she walked closer and tucked the ball under one arm. With her other hand, she reached out and moved his shirt away to see the round scab that had been showing. Kyle suddenly felt vulnerable and he furrowed his brow at her. He was fighting the urge to knock her hand away, even though he knew she was only concerned about him.

“No, I don’t remember anything.” He shifted his weight and assumed a fig leaf position. Just saying that out loud made him uncomfortable. He sounded like some lunatic abductionee who was eagerly counting the days until Elvis came back to take him home to that big Graceland in the sky.

Then the touch of Joey’s fingers against his skin made him jump back to reality. He shook his head slightly, trying to remember the last time a girl’s touch had affected him like that. A smile started and died on his lips immediately.

Joey’s eyes were wide and unblinking, focused on something past him. Kyle jerked his head around and saw- nothing, just the yard, the empty street and the unmarked police car peeking from around the corner keeping an eye out for Larry’s sorry, dead ass, as always.

Kyle turned back around expecting an answer. But Joey was still in a trance, her fingers still lightly brushing his skin.

Uh-oh. Had she “connected” with him? Oh, sh*t. Would he know it if she had? There’s no telling what kind of crap she’d see in there. Should he pull her hand away and wake her up? Uh... no, isn’t there something about not waking up someone who‘s sleepwalking? Is this like that? Aw, hell.

“Liz,” Kyle called out over his shoulder. “Come ‘ere!”

He heard voices and then the creaking of the iron gate.

“Kyle,” Liz sounded worried. “What is it?”

“It’s Joey, she’s-”

Just then, Joey woke up. Her eyes focused on Kyle and her face pinched up, tears immediately running down her cheeks. “Oh god. I’m so sorry, Kyle. I’m so sorry.”

Alex stepped forward, but Kyle put out his hand to stop him. Then he reached out and pulled Joey into his arms. She surprised him by leaning completely against him, her breaths coming out in hot, little gasps against his shoulder.

“Kyle, what did you say to her,” Liz asked him with accusing eyes.

He was stunned. “Liz, I didn’t do this. She reached out and touched me and whammo, we’re back in Czechoslovakia again.”

“He didn’t do anything, okay,” Joey’s voice came out in a fierce whisper as she pulled away from Kyle.

“Shhhhh,” Alex said quietly. “Maybe we should head inside.”

“Joey,” Mrs. Evans’ voice came from inside the wall and she appeared at the gate. “What is it, honey?”

“It wasn’t me,” Kyle insisted as he met her eyes. “I swear, all I did was stand here.”

Mrs. Evans came over and Joey walked to her stiffly. After a whispered exchange, Mrs. Evans led Joey back inside. Kyle watched them walk away nervously. “All she did was touch me,” he said again.

“Did she connect with you?” Liz’s face was suddenly lit up with understanding.

He could only manage a nod. Liz’s wide eyes echoed his own fears.

What had Joey seen inside him?

******

“So, you actually did it, huh,” the begrudging admiration in Michael’s voice didn’t go unnoticed by Max. It hadn’t been that difficult. Max probably should have let Michael do it. But he couldn’t stand to sit here any longer and wait. Wait for the time to pass so that he could go get Liz. Wait for his life to begin again.

“Yeah, it’s all working now.” Max fiddled with the transmission receiver and sat back in the chair. “So now, we wait.”

“What was the house like,” Isabel demanded. “Was there anything unusual, anything at all?”

She sounded so hopeful that Max hated to say no. But he shook his head as gently as possible. “No, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yeah, what did you expect, ‘I‘m-an-alien‘ wallpaper or something,” Michael shot out tersely. “Get real. We have to do this the hard way.”

“Well, it’s their home, Michael,” Isabel said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “And sometimes people have meaningful objects around their homes to remind of things they love.”

“Yeah, well I guess I wouldn’t know about that now, would I,” Michael muttered.

“God, the two of you could fight about the number of fleas on a three-legged dog,” Maria grabbed Michael‘s arm and pulled him over to the other bed. She sat him down and glared at him before heading to the bathroom. “Be nice.”

Max sighed. The events had taken their toll on everyone. And in truth, his emotions were just as ragged as anyone else’s. Every time he thought of home...

Max’s throat constricted and tears sprang into his eyes. He turned back to the monitor before anyone could see his lips trembling. It was a nightmare, plain and simple. Never again would he play Monopoly around the dinner table with Mom, Dad, Izzy and Joey, or mow the lawn, or sleep in his own bed, or drive to Liz’s house to see her. He was dead in Roswell. He had seen the funeral on t.v. with his own eyes. And now, he had to stay dead.

Max crossed his arms over his chest, then covered his face with one hand when the tears couldn‘t be halted.

A gentle hand caressed his shoulders and Isabel murmured, “I am so sorry, Max. I am so- so sorry.” He must not have been hiding his emotions well. She had barely managed to choke out the last words. She knelt beside him and wrapped her arms around him. Max relaxed just a bit in her warmth and allowed a few bitter tears to escape his eyes. But only a few.

He shoved the ache down deep inside of him. He was still alive. And Liz- Liz was worth everything. The wait, the pain, everything.

******

Liz was tired of waiting. She looked around the dinner table with sharp eyes, taking in the mute tension and many glances sent Joey’s way. In the hour and a half since her connection to Kyle, they hadn’t been able to get Joey alone to talk about it.

Mrs. Evans had invited Kyle and Alex to stay to dinner and they had, of course, agreed to stay. Liz had never known either of them to turn down a free meal. But the conversation was stilted and she knew everyone was thinking about the same thing. Well, everyone except Mrs. Evans, who was clueless about the whole episode.

She thought Joey had been upset over something brought up from her past.

Liz wished she felt that she could take Mrs. Evans in their confidence, but the old habits died hard, and she just wasn’t sure what Joey had seen. It might be something dangerous and Liz knew that in that case, Max wouldn’t want his Mom to know.

In the same vein, Liz hadn’t taken down her block to Michael yet, just in case they decided to keep it from them, too.

And yes, the thought bothered Liz that she might keep something from Max, but truthfully, what could he do? He and the others were hundreds of miles away and if it was something bad, it would just worry them. No, it was definitely wiser to keep it quiet for now.

Finally, dinner was done. “Mrs. Evans,” Liz said, standing up and grabbing her plate. “That was wonderful. Why don’t you let us do the dishes and you go sit and rest?”

It was a good plan, but when Alex and Kyle jumped up, grabbed their plates and chimed in with a lusty “yeah,” Mrs. Evans stared at them like they’d gone mad.

“Are you sure you want to do this, boys,” she asked with a faintly suspicious smile.

“They definitely want to do it,” Liz smiled and said after giving the guys a warning look. They looked like the Hardy Boys with those fresh-scrubbed, “unsuspicious” looks on their faces. But Mrs. Evans just sighed and stood to her feet. “I’ll be glad for a rest. Joey, are you sure you’re okay,” she looked over at the pale, quiet girl with concern. Joey was scared, that was plain to see, but she whispered that she was fine, just tired.

Mrs. Evans gave her a hug and went to the stairs. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me. Boys, be gone before ten, or I‘ll sic Phillip on you. Good night.”

As soon as Mrs. Evans was gone, everyone plopped their plates back on the table with a clang. Liz walked over to Joey as slowly as she could manage. The guys were hanging back, showing a surprising amount of self-restraint as well. Or was it just fear?

Joey was looking at her hands, a few tears slipping down her face as Liz sat down beside her. “Oh Liz,” she whispered. “It was horrible.” Liz bent her head over until she could see into Joey’s frightened eyes. “What did you see, Joey? Was it something from Kyle?”

A nod answered her and Liz looked up to see if Kyle had seen this. He crossed his arms and shifted his weight, looking like he was ready for whatever she threw his way.

Liz turned back to Joey. “What did you see?”

“It’s like I was... Kyle,” she began, looking from one to the other. “I was- strapped down to a table, no, not strapped, held down by these metal things. They were cold and... tight. And there was this man, standing over me, asking questions, I think.” Joey looked at Liz with horror in her eyes, making Liz afraid to hear the next whispered words. “And when Kyle wouldn’t answer- they hurt him.”

Liz heard Kyle scatter chairs on his way to the hall. She looked up just in time to see him dive through the bathroom doors. In seconds, he was vomiting miserably. Alex had followed him and was standing right outside the door, torn between helping Kyle and giving him space. Liz swallowed her fear for him and turned back to Joey.

“Who was it,” she managed to whisper. “Who did this to Kyle?”

The hazel eyes were streaming with tears, darting away as she tried to pull out the images. “I don’t know. Just this man... in a suit. With this big machine.”

The last word came out as a sob. Joey bent over in pain, resting her face in her hands. Liz felt tears well up in her own eyes. God, Kyle- someone had finally been questioned and tortured, as they had all feared for years. Why Kyle?

Then Larry’s words at the wedding flooded back into her mind: “I was abducted last night and I- I woke up this morning in pain, not able to remember anything about what happened to me.”

Liz blinked. It was so clear to her suddenly. Larry had thought it was Max who had taken him, but could it have been the same people who took Kyle? The timing was too coincidental, both Kyle and Larry disappearing the night before the wedding.

“Joey,” Liz bent over her shuddering frame. “Joey, did you see Larry Trilling there? Was he there with Kyle?”

Slowly, Joey sat up. Her eyes were red-rimmed and open wide with shock. “Yes. I think so. There was a video screen with his face on it. I didn’t recognize him until you said that. But yeah, that’s who it was.”

“So that’s what did it,” Liz whispered. “Larry came after Max because he thought Max took him that night, to scare him. But it was probably the FBI, asking him questions like Kyle.”

“The FBI,” Joey’s voice came out strangled. “Does this mean that they know about us?”

Liz stared at her a moment, then turned to see Kyle coming out of the bathroom, very pale and refusing help from Alex. She kept her voice low. “We need to know what Kyle told them, Joey. Did you hear anything?”

Liz was suddenly glad that she was still blocking Michael. She didn’t want them to freak out about this.

“I don’t think-” Joey’s voice brought Liz’s mind back to the present. “I don’t think he told them anything. That’s why- they- got the machine-” Joey barely finished the sentence.

But what about Larry? Had Larry told them anything damaging? He obviously knew about Max from- from Liz’s mother. She swallowed hard. What if Larry had told them everything? Of course, the one thing she could fall back on was the fact that Max was now “dead,” and his body had been declared human by the overanxious coroner. So any information Larry gave them should have been tossed out as the ravings of a lunatic. Or was that just wishful thinking?

“It’s okay, Joey. Just- don’t worry. We’ll figure it out, okay?” Joey nodded.

Liz patted her back lightly and then stood up. Kyle was now sitting on the Evans’ couch with his face covered by his hands. Liz walked over to him. “Are you okay,” she asked him timidly and sat beside him.

He pulled his hands down, the glint of humor in his pale face still intact. “Yeah, puking my guts out is always so therapeutic. See, now you know my secret. I’m bulimic. I figure I get to eat more chicken this way.”

Liz gave him a pained smile. “I am so sorry, Kyle. You shouldn’t have even been put in that situation-”

“Shut up, Liz,” Kyle cut her off with a gesture. “I’m fine.” But she watched as his jaw worked. Liz waited patiently, wishing that she could just read his mind and make it easier for him. How much did he remember?

He started speaking just as she worked up the nerve to ask him. “I remember the machine- now,” he said with a long pause following. “And I remember the feeling that you were in danger.”

“Me,” Liz’s mind felt muddled.

His blue eyes snapped to hers. “Yeah.” His eyes drifted away again, as he got lost in thought again. “And being pissed as hell at Larry. But I can’t remember why. Maybe- maybe you should connect with me.”

The sudden proposition took Liz aback. She blinked several times as she took in the seriousness of his eyes. They desperately needed to see if anything was said, if the FBI knew anything about them. Max, Michael and Isabel could be in terrible danger right now. Not to mention Joey and Justin.

“Okay,” Liz nodded slowly. “I’m going to have to touch you.” Kyle nodded and she reached her hands out to his face, just as Max had done to her all those years ago. “Just breathe deeply and try and think about that night. I won’t be able to control what I see, do you understand?”

Kyle stared into her eyes blankly, then nodded.

Liz took a deep breath, knowing instinctively how much that had cost him. Then she stirred the power growing inside of her and fed it to him through her hands, urging a connection between them. Almost immediately, images poured into her mind.

FLASH

A medical observation room above him, lights and equipment all around-

FLASH

Pain as a sharp metal attachment cut into his abdomen- it was the machine-

FLASH

Screaming in pain, tears nearly obscuring the man over him from view-

FLASH

Darkness and faded voices, taking away some of the pain-

Liz gasped as the connection broke. She took her hands off of Kyle’s face and breathed deeply, forcing back the tears at the memory of his pain. She could feel him watching her, but no words would come.

“Dammit, Liz, what did you see,” his voice was sharp.

She forced herself to reach down and pull up his shirt, still not trusting her voice. The lowest of the six round scabs she saw, but the cut in his abdomen, the one Liz had seen being made... it was gone.