Roswell was just a memory. Once the decision was made, they were fast on the path towards self discovery. Michael would’ve wanted to leave sooner, faster, to put more miles between them and Roswell, but Maria took her time in the shower. They set out late in the afternoon, keeping to back roads and smaller county highways until they were past Las Cruces. Then Michael took a road south to bypass Interstate 10, and join up to a smaller state highway heading for Tucson.

Maria was quiet as her arms held him tight, moving instinctually with his body and the movement of the bike. The black Buell was a powerful Harley engine eating away the miles, but the unseasonably hot weather was plastering her body to his, and he could feel the fatigue in her arms as they circled his body. Michael pulled over to rest and to get her something cold to drink. She had been uncharacteristically quiet once she knew he was taking her home to Tucson. Nightmares. Those that live in dreams, and those you feel while you're awake, at times bleed together into a one large feeling of being afraid. Tucson was like that. It was the nightmare of the unknown, combined with the waking fear of getting there and then nothing changing. Roswell was exactly that to him his entire life. It was the nightmare that would never stop, so he left, he ran, and he searched for something better, but always came back to Roswell. He realized long ago that he was trapped, because he couldn’t know where he was going until he knew where he came from, and that place was as far away as the stars.

Maria’s mind was the same. Locked. Hidden. And if maybe they could find a way to unlock her mysteries, perhaps along the way his would be unlocked too. It was a gamble. A risk. The heat of the dying sun and the suffocation of no breeze made living a veritable hell. It was too hot to stand, too hot to ride, and Michael wiped the sweat from his brow looking over at a very hot Maria as she rubbed the cold bottle of water across her forehead and then the back of her neck.

Cussing, he quickly capped off the gas tank as the gas overflowed. She distracted him. She was good at that. Distraction. He had left her too long unattended in the shower as he rushed around the house packing for their impromptu visit to Tucson. He came back to find her with a pair of scissors. She had cut off one of the new pair of the sweats he bought her into shorts, and she did the same to one of his t-shirts, taking off about four inches to leave her midriff bare. When she stretched he could see the curve of the bottom of her breasts, and for that alone he forgave her for murdering the Metallica t-shirt he had had since tenth grade.

He went to pay for the gas and get something sweet and disgusting plus a few extra bottles of water when he noticed the clerk was occupied. Watching Maria. Dammit. She had rolled up the leg of her sweat shorts, and rolled down the waistband. She had poured some of the cold water over her hair to cool down, and her t-shirt (that had been his) was wet. Adding in the ridiculous four-inch stiletto tipped heels, and he could understand all the swerving cars trying to rubberneck a look back at her standing on the side of the road as she waited for him.

Great. Girl hiding in plain view causing a scene. The woman couldn’t be any less apparent. He was surprised the FBI or whoever was looking for her didn’t just find a neon sign with an arrow pointing to her. Blending into the woodwork she didn’t do at all. She didn’t even attempt it.

“That water for her?” The clerk asked. He was maybe a day over twenty, pimple faced, and freakishly tall. His face was red, and Michael suspected it wasn’t the heat, or even wasn’t being teased and turned on by Maria. This boy was just red. All over.

“Yeah.” Michael said noncommittal reaching for his wallet offering no other information.

“It’s on the house if you get her to drink it here.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed and he tossed money for the gas, candy bars and water at the boy and with a slight growl headed out. Getting on the bike, he looked over at Maria as he tossed her helmet at her, “You coming?”

Ignoring his pissy tone, she quickly climbed on behind him, holding the sack in one hand, but before her other hand could circle his waist, he took off, forcing her to clutch him harder. It took another twenty miles before his temper cooled down, if not his body. Finding an out-of-the-way place to pull over, he stopped the bike under what he deemed to be the only frickin’ tree in New Mexico. The shade was welcome, or it would’ve been if it wasn’t at least a hundred degrees there.

“You okay?”

Maria nodded and slowly peeled herself off of him as she dismounted. He had taken off so fast that she had had to clutch him the entire time, and her arm felt like rubber, as did her legs. “Want to tell me what that was about?”

“No.” Michael took the bag and took at another bottle of water and a melting candy bar. Sitting on the ground, he leaned against the sad excuse for a tree, eating the candy and drinking his water. Maria watched him as he doused his candy bar in Tabasco from his back pocket. She just shrugged and sat next to him, careful not to touch him, and ate a candy bar as well.

“You’re too damn obvious.”

Maria stopped chewing to look at him. “Is that your way of calling me a slut?”

“No. Not that kind of obvious. I mean you’re too memorable. People see you and they remember. You can’t hide in plain sight. You stand out. Like a sore thumb.”

“I could try,” she suggested helpfully.

“Not likely.” Michael closed his eyes. They would be lucky to make it to Tucson. “I think the store clerk turned all his security cameras on you. He was probably planning on making copies to pass around.”

“He could do that?”

“Maybe. I disabled the cameras, and hopefully that will destroy the surveillance tape as well.” Michael noticed that Maria was quiet, and he took it to mean she was worried that she would be tracked by person or persons unknown. “Really, Maria, I think I took out the camera and film, so it should be okay.”

Maria nodded looking down at him all hot and sweaty, the moisture beading on his upper lip. Her body took a ten degree heat spike. He was so sexy. So earnest. So…

Michael closed his eyes and returned the kiss. It was hot. She was hot, and his resistance was low. He had disappointed her in the shower earlier, but he had been tapped for condoms and after an entire day of reckless behavior it was time to really take on some responsibility. His body protested the sacrifice almost as much as Maria, and she was just adding fuel to an already burning fire.

“Maria…” He put his hands on her ass to steady her as she straddled his hips, her body sticking to his wherever it touched. The heatwave was more than just a physical thing; it was inside their bodies as well.

“I bought something while you were gassing up.”

“From the convenience store?” He didn’t remember her buying anything, just getting change and using the bathroom.

Maria smirked and her eyebrow rose as she pulled a handful of condoms from her sweat short’s pocket. Placing them on his stomach in front of her, she leaned in to lick his lips and mate her forehead to his. “They had a special twelve pack variety special.”

Michael looked at the pile of brightly colored packages. “You bought them out of a dispenser in the lady’s room?”

“Nope. They just had tampons. I had to go into the men’s. Interesting smelling place there. Ugh. Do men even know how to aim? And excuse me, if that bathroom had been cleaned since the Civil War, I’ll eat my one pair of shoes.”

Michael picked up one condom and frowned at the package. It was strangely colored. They all were. “Maria, you can’t know how long these have been in there, and in the heat…” Michael trailed off as he was reading. “And if they're different colored ones, you can forget it. I don’t dress myself up to be pretty.”

“Big baby! I think you’d look good in pink to match your new display of pink socks and boxers. But actually, you’re saved. They’re flavored.”

“Flavored?” Michael had been reading the detailed description of why this particular brand of condom offered the most in ribbed sensation, guaranteed to produce explosive orgasms. He flipped it to the other side with the words ‘Pina Colada Sensation’ printed in stylized lettering. “You overly fond of coconut and rum?”

Maria took the condom from him and read it. Tossing it like a Frisbee, she grabbed another one. “Nuts! That wouldn’t suit you at all. I see you more…salsa. Tomato richness with a touch of fire.”

Maria read another one as Michael let his hands move up her sides under his mutilated shirt to hold her breasts in his palms, slowly feeling her up. She was moving in his lap in a nice suggestive manner, and one of her hands was already unbuttoning his button-fly jeans.

“Hmm, Michael, is 'tutti-frutti' really a flavor? What is wrong with these people?” Michael grabbed the offending condom and tossed it the way of the other one.

“Get another one. I don’t care which.” He put his head back a little and looked at her through half closed eyes swallowing a moan. Her lean artistic hand already had him out of his jeans, and he didn’t care if the shade was over a hundred degrees under the only lone tree in that stretch of desert, his body was already going nuclear.

She quickly took care of business and pulled him up in a more upward-sitting pose as she mounted him for a nice long hot ride. Laughing into his eyes and his reaction, she leaned with her elbow on his shoulder, so she could whisper in his ear, and he turned, his eyes meeting hers. Oh god. What she could make him feel, how she could touch him with just a look…

Michael licked his lips and groaned when her eyes darkened and watched him. Clearing his throat he asked her softly. “What flavor?”

“Mango spice.”

Kissing her laughing face, he smirked a little, and then groaned when his hands guided her to speed it up a little. “Great. I’ll smell like a fucking fruit salad for the rest of the day.”

Maria just laughed harder at the word ‘fucking’, and she put both her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly into her. “Mmm, mmm, so good and healthy for you!”

Michael just slapped her naked ass, appreciating her nude body joined with his, moving hard with deep long strokes, her only clothing his Metallica t-shirt which surprisingly had never looked better. “Get to work.”

~~~

“What are you reading, honey?” Philip Evans tossed his briefcase on a chair and went to sit next to his wife on the sofa.

“An article. How was work?”

“Good. Picked up a new client today, and litigation on the Browning case is coming around.” Philip tipped his head to get a better view of the article. It was an environmental piece on the overwhelming devastation of forest fires on the ecosystem, and its far-reaching consequences on acid rain, livestock, farming, and ground acidity.

“Didn’t realize you were interested in environmental issues.” He wasn't really that surprised, since his wife was a voracious reader, but weighty political and environmental issues usually weren’t her first choice.

“Normally, I’m not. Not really. But since it's what Michael seems to favor to write, I’ve been reading about it a lot lately. Did you know that the sand plover is at risk of extinction because of its breeding grounds are natural beachheads where they nest their eggs? Since so many beaches have been taken over by sunbathers in their native nesting grounds that every year their reproductive rates success declines.”

Philip just shook his head no. He was certain that he didn’t know that.

“It is really sad. The National Park Service have set up protective areas for the shoreline bird, but people still ignore the warnings and end up stepping on and crushing their eggs.”

Philip nodded and smiled in the appropriate places and Diane went on and on telling him of all the different issues she was reading about. The list seemed endless and it continued as she was making dinner.

“Honey, what’s going on?”

Diane looked up from her meal and folded her hands. “I just wanted to know him.”

“Michael?” Diane nodded. “Honey, you’ve known him for years. Literally. He practically slept in this house through his entire youth.”

Diane looked down at the table. “Did you ever wonder why? Wonder why he stayed here so much, or why he was poorly washed, underfed, and at times looked like he hadn’t eaten in a week?”

Philip was silent.

“He was abused. Not a little. A lot. The system failed him.” Diane eyes filled with tears. “We failed him. All those years, no one got closer to him then we did. He was with our kids and we didn’t take notice.”

“Diane, we can’t be responsible for…” Philip said trying to smooth over the hurt, but he was feeling the emptiness in his stomach too.

“Yes, we did. We failed him the worst way possible. We left him there. Alone.”

Philip’s eyes became very silent and serious. “What do you mean, we left him?”

“He was at the orphanage with Max and Isabel. He’s Isabel’s twin.” Diane choked back a sob. “Her twin. We broke them up.”

“Are you sure?”

“Max told me. He wanted me to lay off Michael because it hurts Isabel.” Diane looked at her tightly clasped hands. “I need you to do something for me.” Philip nodded unable to speak. “I need to you find out everything about Max and Isabel, and how they came to the orphanage, and about Michael.”

“Honey, there might not be records, or…”

“Please. I just need to know. We can’t change it now. We can’t take away the damage, but we can learn to understand him better.”

Philip smiled, and reached over to take his wife’s hands. “Okay, I’ll see what I can find out, but first, maybe you should let me read a few of his stories.”

~~~

Michael finally pulled over to a cheap roadside motel. It was late. The sun seemed to sap the world of strength, and sex under a tree in the middle of the desert in over one hundred degree heat had finished the job.

Maria seemed reluctant to enter the room. It was bad. Not even a nice clean place. Just cheap and rundown.

“Hourly rates, huh?”

“You have a choice. Hourly rates or daily.”

“Great.” Maria went into the bathroom and found a towel and sat it on the bed before sitting down. “You know, I was kidding about the nookie motel.”

“It’s not the best, Princess. It's off the beaten path and the last place anyone would look for you.” Michael looked at his watch. “I’ll be right back. I need to go find us some food before everything in this place shuts down. You wait here, lock the door, and I’ll be back soon. Maria? You understand?”

“Yeah. I do. Just go.” Michael frowned at her distracted tone, the way she held herself around the waist hard. He waited outside the door until he heard the clink of the lock.

Maria hardly noticed. Her head was pounding and the sweat trickled down her spine. In a flash she was hot, and then cold. The room had the standard window cooling unit, but it was hardly putting out the cool air to keep up with the unsuspected heatwave.

She noticed the rushing in her ears first. The room darkened and then suddenly became too bright. Looking in a mirror at herself, she didn’t see anything. But she could hear voices.

“What is this?” Maria asked. Her voice rising in anger, anger and something else…disappointment.

Maria heard the angry voice and looked around the room in confusion. “A present. A present to…”

She turned quickly trying to locate the sound of her angry voice and the deeper voice of the man. “Michael?” “Maria…”

Maria looked back into the mirror, but all she could see was a man’s face. Older. Lined. Desperate. And her whole body jerked as three bullets hit his chest. He was looking at her. Straight at her. As she watched his body fall to the ground, hers did the same.

~~~

“Liz, what the hell is going on?” Max asked from the doorway.

Liz looked up from her place next to the toilet, and rested her arm on the side of the bathtub appreciating the coolness. It was hot in the upstairs apartment. The air conditioning unit had broken down and it was ninety degrees, even though the sun was going down.

“Heat exhaustion.” Liz said simply, biting her tongue at the lie.

“Heat exhaustion?” Max went to the sink and wetted a washcloth, cold and moist, and crouching down next to her, he pulled her close to his body and held the cool cloth against the back of her neck. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Liz shrugged and enjoyed the coolness and leaning against him. “It just hit me. I guess I didn’t drink enough water today, and when I walked into the apartment…”

“The heat overwhelmed you.” Max kissed her forehead and then her lips gently. “First order of business is to get you cooled down.”

Max reached over and plugged the bath and started running a tepid bath, adding some of Liz’s favorite bath salts. Gardenia. Liz leaned against him as the nausea rose again, but she bit it back not willing to alarm Max. He helped her undress and put her in the bath himself, sitting on the side of the bath, he took the spray and wetted her hair. Slowly and with care, he washed her long hair, rinsed it, and then wrapped it in a towel.

“You rest. I’m going to see about dinner, and I need to go make a quick trip to my parents.”

“Max?” Liz didn’t think she could eat. Not in the heat. Not with her stomach, but she couldn’t disappoint Max.

“If I remember correctly they had an old window air conditioner. I’ll go borrow it until we can get the one in the apartment fixed. I’ll put it in the bedroom so you can sleep comfortably tonight.” Max said, washing her back and soothing her back to rest.

Liz felt an overwhelming emotion sweeping her body and she could hardly hold back the tears. He was so great. He was everything. It hurt to lie to him, to hold back information he’d want to know, but she couldn’t tell him. Not yet.

“You’re too good for me.”

Max smiled and laughed kissing her on the tip of her nose. “Not good enough, earthling.”

Liz laughed lightly. Max kissed her again, this time a little deeper, with more passion, and he rested his head against hers.

“Stop thinking you don’t deserve me. I’m nothing special. I am, and always will be, yours. You, Liz Parker, have enslaved me from the moment I first saw you, and you did it with just a smile.”

“A smile? A smile, and a double cheese burger, extra onions, and a large cherry coke.”

Max laughed. “The fries were the clincher.”

Liz made a mocked angry sound and tried to pull him into the bath with her. He evaded her and stood up with a smile.

“You rest. I’m getting up some cool air and Chinese.”

Liz went to make a suggestion and a request, but he stopped her. “I know, Sesame chicken, extra sauce, pot stickers, and an order of shrimp toast.”

“Don’t forget the Chinese mustard.”

Max smiled and gestured for her to stay put on his way out the door. “Would I forget the Chinese mustard?” A wet washcloth hit the door beside him on the way out.

Liz waited until he was gone for a few moments and she quickly got out of the bath. She opened the cabinet under the sink, and sitting on the toilet seat she tapped the box against her forehead closing her eyes. Finally with a self deprecating sigh, she opened it and began to read the instructions.

It should take longer. Why didn’t it? How could something so life altering only take a few moments, when an eternity of moments would be altered for all times? It wasn’t an ulcer. It wasn’t the stomach flu, or the heat. Liz looked into the tiny window. A plus for positive. She was pregnant. It was over.

~~~

“Hey, Dad? Mom?” Max went to the refrigerator and took out the carton of orange juice , looking for a small glass to pour it into. He looked up from his drink when his dad followed by his mom entered the kitchen.

“Max!” Philip smiled in genuine pleasure. It seemed he never saw enough of his son anymore. “This is an unexpected surprise.”

“Honey, are you hungry? Where's Liz?”

“Liz is home being sick. She has heat exhaustion.”

Philip frowned as Diane made a distressed sound in her throat. “Is she okay? Is there anything we can do, son? Name it.”

“Thanks, Dad. How about lending us the window cooler? Our air unit is out, and with the heatwave the cooling guy said he was backlogged and would try, try to get to us by this weekend.”

“That’s at least four days,” said Philip. “Liz needs something sooner. I’ll help you find the air conditioner in the garage.”

Max and Philip rutted around in the garage for a little while moving things around until he found it. It was filthy, dusty, and he wasn’t sure that it still worked. They took it outside on the driveway and Max washed it off with the water hose, while Philip looked for an extension cord. It worked. Max sighed in relief. They loaded it into the back of the jeep, and Max thanked his dad and kissed his mom on her cheek as he got ready to leave.

“Actually, son, I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions.” Philip said ignoring the warning look in Diane’s eyes.

“Can we talk later, Dad? I’ve got Liz waiting. She almost fainted once today, and I need to stop and pick up the takeout order.”

“Okay, in a few days. Promise?”

“Sure. We’ll do lunch. I’ll treat you to a nice Crashdown sweaty burger.”

“Max, no!” Diane just ignored the excitement in her husbands eyes. Of course he would want a burger and break his diet. It was the unhealthiest thing for him there could possibly be. Max just laughed and pulled out of their drive, waving.

“Philip, you were going to ask him about Michael?”

Philip nodded as he closed the garage door making a note to get around to cleaning it, and led his wife back in the house. “I was.”

“I think you should wait. Wait until at least you've checked it out.”

Philip thought about it. Perhaps. His son had always been a strange child. Quiet. Isolated. Stand-offish in his own way. In his eyes you could see secrets and a certain reserve. Even as a child he didn’t want them too close. Max could shut down and be hard to reach. He’d need all the information he could find, to reach past Max’s defenses.

“You’re probably right about that. C’mon. Let’s have coffee.”

~~~

Vicky stood in the doorway and watched as Kyle took another barrage of water across his face and clothes. The look on his face was precious as the twins hit him again. Bath time for them was usually very wet and messy, and if Kyle did it, especially so. He had a way of sending the twins off on a peal of laughter followed by rambunctious water splashing.

“Hey! Who splashed Daddy?” Kyle asked in a loud mock angry voice look stern at the twins.

Both looked each other and giggled. The delight in their little bodies was apparent. Looking at each other they both pointed at the other and said, “He did!”

Kyle made a growling voice and made a move to tickle the two little menaces when his movement was met with another barrage of water. The twins found it highly amusing to see their dad dripping wet.

“Sweetie?” Kyle looked over at the door when Vicky called him, noticing that suddenly the twins were calm and well behaved with little angelic looks on their faces.

“Sneaks,” Kyle said softly, “I’ll get you. You wait.” The twins screamed in hysterical laughter, anticipating a loud race around the house trying to kill the Daddy Monster. Suddenly the two co-conspirators were quiet as they whispered to each other, and Kyle turned back to them when he thought he heard the word ‘trap’, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

The twins were notorious trapmakers. They decorated the living room one day in scraps of string they found. It took them hours to create their life size version of a baby trap. Once it was completed they tried to lure Jamie into it. The little guy was saved by his namesake, grandpa Jim, and the twins soon forgot their evil plans, with the promise of a special trip to the ice cream shop.

Vicky laughed at her husband. “Baby, you’re wet. I think there's more water on you and the floor than there is left in the bath.”

Kyle looked down and had to admit that she was right. “The boys were playing Pearl Harbor.”

“Uh huh. I see. Well, it’s getting late, so how about we get them out and give them a snack before bedtime?”

Snack. The magic word that was guaranteed to set the twins into a frenzy. They lived for snacks. His little goats, they lived to munch and eat their way through childhood.

“What do we have for them tonight?” Kyle asked mildly watching the boys out of the corner of his eyes. They perked up to listen.

“Raisins.” Vicky said watching the two whisper in quiet to each other in wonder. She heard the words ‘monster eyeballs’ and grimaced.

The twins had a fondness for gross things, and they tended to rename everything. Like the little munching goats they were, they ate their way through a huge amount of granola, raisins and nuts naming all of it special gross names. Raisins were their favorite.

Suddenly two little bodies were on their feet with arms held out wanting out of the bath. Kyle pulled the plug to let the water drain out, or what was left of the water, as an entire fleet of destroyed ships became apparent at the twins feet.

“You know the drill. Arms up!”

Kyle waited until the water ran warm, and took the sprayer attachment to the bath and rinsed the two off laughing at their antics. He put it away and took a towel, grabbing one and wrapping him up in the terrycloth, as Vicky grabbed the other. She nuzzled her son’s cheek and whispered to him, making him hug her tighter and rest on her shoulder. Kyle watched them for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest before following her to the twins bedroom to get them poured in their Spiderman pajamas.

After snack time and a rigorous tooth brushing affair, the twins were out like a light. Or at least they appeared to be.

“How long?”

Vicky checked her watch. “Five minutes?”

They sat on the sofa, exhausted, in their usual bedtime routine. Kyle suddenly looked at his wife and they shared a look at each other's wasted exhausted pose languishing on the sofa, and suddenly they both laughed. Kyle moved to lie full length on the sofa, pulling Vicky into his arms while still laughing. They were kissing when the expected sound came.

“Dad!” Kyle closed his eyes for a moment and rested against Vicky.

“You got it?”

Vicky sat up and reached for two cans of air freshener. Each can was coated with a special colorful crayon colored paper proclaiming it the best in Monster-Be-Gone protection spray. Tossing them to Kyle, she smiled as he went to arm each twin with his own can.

Later, gently pulling his wife behind him towards their bed, he heard one of the twins' voices rise in fright. Detouring to check on them, he heard a little voice raising to reassure him, “It’s okay, Dad. I got it.” Kyle and Vicky both laughed softly at the sound of the air freshener cans spritzing in the night.

~~~

Michael opened the door to the room, trying to balance cans of soda with a few bags from a local burger joint. He had just barely made their last call before they closed for the evening. It was after ten, and the sun had just gone down, but the heat was still in the air.

“Maria?” Michael closed the door with his foot when he saw her. She lay on the floor, not moving. “Oh, shit!” Tossing the bags on the bed, he ran to her. Feeling the pulse on her neck he breathed easier to find it strong and bounding. Picking her up, he gently put her on the bed and got a washcloth and wetted it.

“Maria...C’mon...Maria...Baby, wake up.”

Maria slowly woke to his voice, and she frowned. “Don’t call me Baby.”

“Okay.” He helped her sit up a little, and sat on the bed next to her. “Baby, you okay?”

Maria struggled to sit up, her face showing her confusion. As soon as her eyes saw the mirror they started to close, rolling back in her head, but Michael grabbed her quickly and gave her a little shake.

“No, you don’t! Stay with me.” Maria nodded and put her arms around his neck and held on to him. “What is it? Tell me.”

“I heard voices. I don’t know from where. A man. He was staring at me, and then there were bullet holes and he was…”

“Shhh, it’s okay. Just a dream.”

Maria shook her head, and pulled away from him. “Michael, I was awake.”

Michael ignored that and brought her even closer, stroking the tense lines of her back. Idiot. Fool. The motel room wasn’t the one in the vision, but it was like any standard motor inn room. It must have triggered a memory, and Maria’s shattered mind was still too traumatized to remember, so it did the only thing it could. It shut down.

The room was too hot. The poor excuse for an air conditioner was panting on its last legs, trying to keep up with the unyielding heat. Michael kissed her quickly and reached for the food. Handing Maria the bags, he took the ice bucket to get ice. The drinks wouldn’t stay cold. When he got back, she was still sorting through the burgers and fries. Michael placed his hand on the cooling unit and concentrated. Maria looked up and watched in wonder as suddenly the air in the room became cooler. He had fixed it.

He joined Maria on the bed as she handed him his food. “You’re really handy to have around at times, Mr. Guerin .” Michael just snorted, reaching for the Tabasco in his back pocket. “Who're the onion rings for?”

“Me.”

“What if I want some?” Maria asked curiously, as she watched him dowse his food and steal one of her fries.

Michael smiled and quickly kissed her. “I’ll share. For a price.”

Maria smiled and ate, not bothering to ask what the price was. Reaching over she swiped his onion rings and took one, smiling at him. She’d gladly pay. She watched him as he silently waited to see how she reacted to her stolen onion ring, covered in Tabasco. Maria ate it calmly. Reaching over, she stole his Tabasco from him and added more to another onion ring and ate it very calmly.

“Oh, baby...” Michael said softly under his breath.

“Don’t call me that.”

~~~

The two men came in from a long, hot, dry day of searching. Neither was in a good mood. Plopping down in a chair on the older man’s patio, they both gratefully took ice cold glasses of ice tea.

“Anything?” asked River Dog.

“No.”

The older Native American man frowned at the tall lanky man dressed in black. The young man had discarded much of his usual wardrobe and was only wearing a black shirt and black pants. Both were stained with sweat and dirt.

“What now?” asked the younger Native American, also lying in a chair next to him, comfortably trying to tip it.

“We keep searching.” Alex Whitman reached into his pocket and removed a cigarette. Lighting up, he leaned back and enjoyed the smoke despite the heat. Offering the younger Native American man a smoke, he watched Eddie light up. They were exhausted.

River Dog placed plates of food in front of the two men. “How much longer, Alex ?”

“Until we find it.” Alex concentrated on the lit tip of his smoke. “I got a call today. We might have a break.”

~~~

Michael was wakened to the feel of Maria thrashing in her sleep. She was curled up on his chest in her usual pose. He watched, but she didn’t wake. He could tell it was a nightmare. Before he could wake her, she suddenly was up and out of the bed. She walked across the room.

He watched her.

She searched the drawers until she found the complimentary paper and a pencil. Suddenly she was drawing, fast and furious, in a room that hardly had enough light to see. Her eyes were far away, unfocused, but seeing some stark reality that was detailed in a lost memory.

As fast as she started, she was done. Coming back to their bed, she crawled in and was soon asleep again. Michael noted the coolness of her skin. She was shivering from the racking cold coming from deep inside her body. Holding her until she settled and was fully asleep he cautiously got up and took the sheets of paper into the bathroom to turn on the light.

Lines. Stark and etched in lead. They were the pictures of the dead man again, but this time she had added missing pieces she hadn’t drawn last time.

Michael recognized the face.

It was the man from the vision.