Although, he wouldn’t mind if Joey noticed. Yeah, the girl had originally freaked him out, but the more he looked, the more he liked. She was tall, almost taller than him, but so thin and definitely female. She moved like an athlete, which Kyle found surprisingly attractive. And her eyes weren’t so much like Evans. They were rounder and more almond-shaped. And had more gold to them. Okay, okay, not like he’d spent hours gazing at Max Evans or anything.

He had to stop moving and physically wipe his hand over his eyes in an effort to get rid of that thought. But really, she was pretty damn gorgeous. Of course, there was the whole compatibility thing. But as far as the suicide route went, there couldn’t be a better way to go... in the arms of an alien who looked like that. Oh yeah, he could take her to his “leader” alright.

Kyle smirked as he finally reached the window and looked in. Where is Larry tonight? Now that the tape was gone, it was apparent that Larry had no back-up plan. In fact, it looked like he had no back-up life.

He spent all his time at work or sulking in his room, which Kyle had witnessed first-hand. And that’s where Larry was tonight- sulking in his room alone. Jennifer had left him at the beginning of the week. She’d finally had enough of his obsession with aliens.

Poor Larry. Gotta’ feel for ya’ there. Been there, done that.

Kyle peeked through the window to see Larry in his usual spot. He had the note in his hand and was diligently studying it from every angle. Kyle grinned. Larry was obviously smarter than he looked. Kyle hadn’t had time to think up anything brilliant. The note simply said: “This time it’s the tape. Next time it will be you.”

But, Kyle had figured the guy’s natural fear of aliens ought to be good for something. And it had worked so far. He hadn’t come near the Crashdown since that night.

Kyle watched Larry shake his head and put away the note before turning on the television. The remote was shaking in his hand.

That guy’s scared to pee in the wrong place. He’s done. Kyle creeped away from the window with a rare feeling of accomplishment.

******

Max took a deep breath and entered the store like it was a combat zone. But he only got about five steps in before he came to a crashing halt. Sex was everywhere around him.

On the walls, on the hangers, in the little bins of bras and panties.

Panties???

His entire mouth went dry and his palms started to sweat. All he could see was Liz... and all of the possibilities...

Isabel stopped. Max watched her walk back to him with a huge grin on her face, bringing his self-consciousness back full force. “Max, what are you doing,” she asked with a little dip of her head.

“Stopping to look at something,” he answered in clipped tones, sounding like a man on a mission. “This is nice.” He reached over and picked up a... lacy thing on a padded, frilly hanger. The more he stared at it, the less sense it made. How on earth would that stay on somebody? It was just lace and a few strings...

He swallowed hard as his mind automatically tried the outfit on Liz, failing to make sense of it, but completely undoing him in the process.

Isabel just laughed and took the hanger from him and put it back. “No. This is not the section for you, Max,” she grabbed his arm and pulled him farther in the store.

They stopped in an area with more familiar-looking things and Max started to breathe again. He looked up on the walls with a pleasant feeling of accomplishment. He recognized that. That- was a bra. And so was that. Don’t ask him why any woman would want feathers or a huge fake diamond attached to the front of it, but it was a bra, nonetheless.

He at least knew that much. He had seen Liz’s bra that day she’d been shot. The image was still burned into his memory, a white bra with little innocent pink flowers, completely hiding her nakedness from his view. Looking at those on the wall, it struck him that those bras didn’t look so innocent... even the rich, dark fabric was suggestive to him... sheets, dark slippery bed sheets came to mind... Oh god...

“So, Max, what exactly did you have in mind to buy,” Isabel suddenly sounded all business and Max snapped to attention.

“Well, uh...” he began stammered. “I don’t... I don’t really know. Uh...”

“Max, we don’t have all night,” she cut him off. “Did you want to buy Liz a bra, maybe some panties?”

Buy Liz... panties? Dry mouth again.

“Panties,” was all he could manage.

“Yes, Max,” Isabel didn’t cut him any slack. “Liz does wear panties, you know. She is a girl.”

Panties?

Isabel was staring at him like he was an idiot, but the word “panties” just kept reverberating in his head like a huge gong had gone off.

“Max, hello,” Isabel was saying, holding up high a pair of the smallest panties he’d ever seen. “Panties, see? This is a thong. Can you say it with me? Thoooong.”

Alright. Enough is enough.

Max grabbed the panties from Isabel’s outstretched hand and pulled her over to the wall. Ignoring her angry protests he whispered, “You obviously have no idea what it’s like to be an eighteen-year-old guy only three days away from his honeymoon in a store full of thongs.” He suddenly realized that the gesturing hand she was staring at held that very same item. He stared at them, suddenly hyperaware of the feeling of crumpled-up smoothness in his hand. Max was once again struck dumb.

Isabel snorted and yanked them away from him. “Don’t get testy with me, Max. I’m doing you a favor,” Isabel snapped.

Max glanced away in frustration and his eyes fell on the rows of bottles lining the walls beside them. He straightened up. “That’s something I wanted to get for her,” he said quickly, before his mind got filled with other things again. “I was thinking about that... you know, about bath stuff.”

“Bath stuff,” Isabel prompted him.

“Yeah,” he looked around nervously and lowered his voice. “Like good-smelling stuff for her to take a bath in. And lotion. For her skin, to use on our wedding day.” He couldn’t help it, a small smile pulled his lips to the side. Yeah, that was exactly what he’d been thinking...

“Okay,” Isabel said with a slight smile. “That’s it? You blushed and stammered and completely humiliated yourself for bath stuff?”

“Well, not entirely,” he admitted with a serious look. “I wanted her to have something to wear later. You know, after the bath.” He nodded at her and emphasized the word “after” heavily.

She shook her head gently and smiled. “Like what, Max? A negligee? She’s probably already picked out what she wants to wear under her wedding gown. But maybe before she gets ready,” Isabel suddenly smiled. “What about a robe?”

Max could feel a goofy grin plaster itself on his face. “Yeah. A robe. Something soft and...” he was at a loss for words.

Isabel suddenly looked back in control. “Gotcha’,” she smiled and turned, leading him to the last room. “Do you want silk or satin? That’s uh... this... or this.”

She held up two robes and a frown settled on his face as he took each one in his hand. It was a relief to have something to focus on besides... the obvious.

“Um, this one, definitely,” he said firmly, holding up the navy blue one, trying to imagine feeling Liz’s skin under it without getting in too deep.

“Silk,” Isabel said appreciatively. “Of course you have good taste. But it is more expensive.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said quickly. “But maybe... a different color, though. Is that the right size?”

“Um... no, she needs a small... or maybe an extra small,” she said as she fingered her way through the rack.

Small? Extra small? Max suddenly remembered why he had brought Isabel with him in the first place. What if he got the wrong size?

“Can I help you,” a saleslady popped up at his arm, making Max jump at her sudden appearance. She was anxious to help, and they got the sizing thing figured out eventually.

And everything went really fast after that. Both Isabel and the saleslady seemed to love spending Max’s money. In no time at all, they had a pale pink silk robe, several bottles of rosy-but-not-too-sweet bath stuff, a box of chocolates and a CD of romantic piano music all wrapped up in a box with a pink bow.

It was perfect.

And he actually lived through it. He’d only had to explain once that this was for his fiance and that was that. Heck, maybe there would be a day when he’d just swing through here after work and pick her up something like it was nothing.

Okay, maybe not...

But he couldn’t wait to see Liz’s face when she opened it on the night before the wedding, which would happen just before their last goodbye on their last night in separate beds.

Only ninety hours away. Fifty-four hundred minutes.

Whoa.

Max watched the minute hand on his watch as Isabel paid for her own purchases.

Fifty-three hundred and ninety-nine minutes.

Wow.

******

“So, Joey, how was your first night on the job,” Mr. Parker said breezily as they walked through the cafe.

“Fine. I enjoyed it, really,” Joey said, trying for the umpteenth time to straighten the antennae on her head, or at least get them to a place where they felt less than completely, obviously stupid. Of course, it was impossible and she finally just took them off.

This whole alien theme was definitely going to take some getting used to. The walls were covered in murals of spaceships and space creatures, grotesque, unflattering depictions to say the least. Getting used to her new identity was hard enough without constantly being reminded of how humans viewed her kind. She forced her eyes to skip past the last few pictures and on to the two booths in the corner, still occupied by her new family and friends.

Joey couldn’t help but wonder if Mr. Parker had any idea how many real live aliens were in his restaurant at the current moment. Five, counting Michael in the back.

Liz was already sitting and trading glances with Max as he sat across from her. They were completely lost in each other, as usual. That still amazed her.

“Joey, come here,” Isabel waved her over to sit down by her. Alex was sitting at the other booth, admiring Maria’s ring as she waited for Michael to get finished cleaning up.

“I’ve just got to wipe up this last table,” she said with an exhausted wave. She didn’t want to keep them waiting on her, but there was still plenty to do even though the last customer had gone. She pulled out a rather rank-smelling rag and began swiping at the front table. It made the back of her uniform ride up just a tad in the back, which made her extremely uncomfortable. Not that anyone was behind her, just the window. But still, that breeziness back there...

How did Liz manage to wear this and not die of embarrassment? Of course, Liz was also short, petite and beautiful. Everything she did had a certain grace to it, impossible to mimic for a five-foot ten-inch tomboy. Even her hair refused to pull back in the necessary ponytail as smoothly and beautifully as Liz’s did.

Oh, just wipe the table, she groused at herself.

A rumbling sound, growing louder, pulled Joey’s attention to the window. Just outside, dozens of motorcycles were going by.

“Weird,” Liz said, suddenly beside her. “What are they doing here at night? They usually stay on the edge of town.”

Joey looked down at her, “Do they come here often?”

Liz smiled. “They usually only come during tourist season. This is a little odd, but nothing to worry about.”

Joey nodded and gave Liz a small smile back as she headed back to Max. But she was beginning to get the feeling that the two years difference between she and the others made them see her as a sort of mascot, everyone’s kid sister who needed to be protected. She, who had lived years on the streets and seen more ugliness and harshness in her life than they could-

Shut up, Joey. Clean the table.

She bent back over, trying to get that one place that was sticky with ketchup to come clean. She refused to use a fingernail to pry up the paste. Gross. Joey stood up and sighed as the spot just got a little thinner, but remained.

Then she ceased all movement. What was that? A chill crept down her back. Her eyes flickered around the room as she tried to put a finger on the sudden feeling overwhelming her.

Someone was watching.

Behind her... at the window.

She glanced over her shoulder to see a stranger in dark jeans and a smooth black leather jacket. He was standing completely still, but the reflective sunglasses made her wonder what he was looking at so steadily. As if he’d heard her thoughts, he removed them and stepped closer to the window. His eyes were darkest brown and crinkled in a soft smile as they stared directly at her.

She knew she would be blushing at his intense gaze were it not for the fact that she were caught up in staring at him just as obviously. She took a step closer to the window, so close that she could reach out and touch it. The smallest ghost of a smile touched his perfectly full lips and he took the last few steps toward the window. Only the glass separated them now.

Joey looked up and took in all the details: brown, fuzzy-duck hair over a clean, well-shaven face. His wide eyebrows were furrowed over a straight, thin nose, despite the upward curve of his full lips. He would be gorgeous on any day, in any situation, but with him standing there looking at her as if she were his last meal, it made her positively breathless.

Then he pointed a finger loosely to the side. What? Oh, yeah. Joey nodded at the unspoken question. He walked to the door and she watched the shifting of the leather, the way his jeans fit him perfectly in the back...and then noticing for the first time that he had parked a motorcycle up on the sidewalk. He was part of that gang?

He didn’t look the type, except for the leather...

She saw him reach for the door handle and didn’t even try to keep the stupid smile off her face. He was as drawn to her as she was to him... But the door didn’t open. Joey’s face mirrored the guy’s confusion at first, and then her hand crept over her mouth in embarrassment.

They were closed. Where was her brain?

She walked over to the door and slowly slid back the lock. As the door jangled open, she heard a few voices behind her. “Joey, what are you doing?” “Joey!”

That last voice was Isabel’s and she sounded panicked, but Joey’s eyes were on the stranger who now filled the door with his tall, lanky frame. She saw his gaze drop to her lips and she licked them nervously. His gaze took on an intensity that almost scared her. But the pull she felt at that instant was so strong that she had trouble standing still. She wanted to run to him, throw her arms around him-

Then he was in front of her and his lips on hers completed that thought. Sensations bombarded her without reprieve... soft lips, the smell of leather, strong, eager hands clutching around her waist, warmth and friction between their bodies. She was hungry, aching, weak- and shaky. She was breathing heavily... And images were starting to pour into her head...

A boy and a girl holding hands, about eight years old-

Then other hands grabbed her and she was pulled back, away from him. Her heart gave a lurch. She opened her eyes to see Isabel peering into her eyes. “Joey, are you alright,” she asked in a concerned voice.