"Michael, you don't have to convince me. I'm not too thrilled about his plan to sit tight and wait either," said Isabel, who had been listening to him discuss the latest news about Max letting them know that he had revealed their secret to a human.

"He had no right to just go and tell her, and I don't care how big a crush he has on her," Michael continued, "She's gonna break and tell everyone. The sheriff's already suspicious, it's only a matter of time. I'm telling you, Isabel, we have to leave Roswell or we're dead."

"We'll, convince him then, it's not like we didn't try, right? But Michael, if there's only a remote chance that we can stay here and get our lives back, we should make the most of it, don't you think?"

"Are you siding with him?" Michael was hurt.

"No, I'm not on anyone's side. I wanna explore all our options. If we stay."

"Isabel, listen to me." He stepped into her personal space, looked her in the eyes, and said sharply. "If we stay, we're dead. If we leave, we're away from everyone who knows us, and alive. What are you going to choose?"

She didn't say anything, but folded her hands in front of her and looked away. He noticed that and took a step back. "Sorry. I had no right to raise my voice at you."

"It's ok. Look, let's wait till tomorrow and see how things turn out. And then we'll think of something."

"I guess we have no other option," he answered after a few seconds, "I just hope we'll live long enough to wake up tomorrow."

They reached a quiet agreement and Michael took in their surroundings for the first time since they'd entered the place a few minutes ago. Carefully, of course, in order not to draw any attention to themselves. He let out a funny noise, like stifled laughter.

"What?" Isabel asked when she saw his grin.

"Nothin'."

"No, it's something." She wouldn't let him drop the subject. "What is it?"

"It's this," he waved his hand around them, "I realized just now that I've never been in the eraser room with you before."

"Oh," she mumbled, "It is kind of weird."

"Yeah," he said, but she could tell he had something else on his mind.

She got up and decided to leave before he said anything more. "I should be going, I've got math in ten minutes."

"The classroom is right across the hall," he informed her amusingly.

"Well, I have to..."

He interrupted her in the middle of the sentence. "So, I heard you're a great French kisser."

She could feel the blush spreading on her cheeks, but she turned to look at him anyway. She won't let him have all the fun.

She eyed him and said challengingly, "You shouldn't believe everything you hear, Michael. Not only am I a great French kisser. I'm one of the best."

She approached him within inches and whispered into his ear, "You wanna see for yourself? I might teach you something new."

He gasped in surprise and she nudged him in the arm, "I'm kidding, Michael. You started it. Where's your sense of humor?"

"All right."

"All right?" she repeated playfully.

"All right, give me your best shot," was his answer.

"You're serious??" her face straightened up.

He nodded and she froze, then tried to back up from the situation she had gotten herself into. "Michael, we don't have to pursue this. It was a joke, right?"

"If you say so," he said with a straight tone in his voice.

"Michael, don't you give me that look. We're friends."

"Only friends?"

"Best friends."

"Best friends do kiss, you know."

"Kiss, yes, but French kiss?"

"Haven't you ever wondered how would it feel like to kiss your best friend?"

"No!"

"You're lying."

"Ok, maybe, but that's the furthest I let that go--to wondering, nothing more."

"Well I only have two best friends, and you're the only one that qualifies for this, Iz. Why couldn't we just try it, and if we don't like it, forget about it?"

"Because it's not that simple. We do something like this and we can never go back again," she tried to explain.

He knew what she was talking about, he wanted to do it anyway.

He tried to hide his disappointment because she had turned him down, so he cleared his throat and said. "You could've just told me that you're not attracted to me enough to kiss me," he turned away from her and headed for the door.

"Michael, you know that's not true," she started, but he kept moving towards the door and she knew she couldn't just let him go like that. It would change things more between them, than if they simply kissed.

She hesitated for a fracture of a second and heard the door open. He was almost out as she grabbed his arm, pulled him back in, and locked the door again.

His surprised look pulled her back into reality as she found herself pressed into his embrace.

We're gonna do this for real, he thought, as he heard her say, "Remember, Michael, this was your idea."

Their lips met and connected in a lip lock, Isabel's hands wondering over Michael's back and his fingers caressing her face. Their kiss was gentle at first, each of them trying not to go too far, but then Michael's tongue pushed into Isabel's mouth, and she let it in and allowed him to explore her. Their kiss could definitely be described as a passionate one. There was a lot more to it than just seeing how it would feel, and they both knew that when they broke to get some air. They mutually decided not to mention the unavoidable for a few more seconds.

Michael exclaimed in between gasps. "I must admit, Isabel, you're definitely a great kisser."

Isabel looked at Michael's swollen lips and answered, "You're not bad yourself, Mickey. In fact, I don't think even I could teach you anything that would be new to you."

"Don't underestimate yourself, Iz," he commented and took a long look at her.

"I knew you would be looking funny at me after this. I told you, we'll never be able to forget about it," she said, getting upset.

"You wanna forget about it?" He asked her disappointedly.

"Well what's our other option?"

"I don't know. I could use some more lessons," he chuckled and she smiled back.

They kissed again and afterwards Michael asked, "I know things are confused right now, Isabel, but if...when we get them under control, will you consider going out with me?"

"No," she responded, and he got a sad look on his face. But it faded away as quickly as it came when she finished her sentence, "I don't need to consider. I can tell you now that I would love to go on a date with you."