fandomtownies | The Perk, Thursday evening.

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The Perk, Thursday evening.

After having Wyatt orb her to the island in the morning, Isabel had had an enjoyable ~~if entirely handwavey~~ lunch with Anders. She should have had Wyatt come back to get her after lunch, but the feeling of needing to be in Fandom had been too strong.

After spending the afternoon sitting on the beach, Isabel had gone for coffee and to wait for Wyatt to meet her. The feeling of waiting for something hadn't faded and she wondered if it would be possible to convince Wyatt to get a room at the hotel for the night.

[For one or two specifically, but open before they turn up.]

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Wyatt had spent the afternoon just wandering around the island, feeling a bit nostalgic, before heading to the Perk to meet Isabel. "Hey beautiful," he said, sliding into a seat opposite her. "How was your lunch?"

"Beautiful? Even with my sunburned nose?" Isabel smiled. "I have to remember sunscreen for my next impromptu afternoon on the beach."

Wyatt reached out and touched a finger to Isabel's nose, using his healing powers to tend to the sunburn. "Burned anywhere else?" he asked hopefully.

"There's a spot on my back," she admitted, taking a sip of her iced coffee. "This is what happens when I don't have someone there to put sunscreen on my back."

If a better straight line was handed to him on a platter, Alex didn't know what it was.

"I volunteer." He put his hands over her eyes, and grinned. "Guess who."

As if Isabel would ever forget that voice.

Except that that voice was not supposed to be Fandom.

Isabel shrieked and jumped, sending her flying as she whipped around to face whoever was playing such a horrible joke.

Words pretty much failed as she took in exactly who was standing there.

Wyatt tensed. He recognized Alex from photos Isabel had shown him, but he also knew he was supposed to be very dead. "What the hell?" he said.

"Hey... guy I don't know." Alex cleared his throat, then smiled back at Isabel. "It's me. I know, how is this possible, are you a shapeshifter, maybe it's an alien trick, but no, it's me. At least for a little while." His smile faded a little, and he looked worried. "You okay there, Isabel?"

Isabel was still gaping, but she did finally manage to form so words. "I'm not," she admitted. "I'm pretty shocked. But I guess I should have know. If you dream them, they will come. That's what this is about isn't it?"

Then the good manners kicked in to cover this oh so awkward introduction. "Wyatt, I'm pretty sure this is Alex. Alex, this is Wyatt. My boyfriend."

"Better not be some kind of trick," Wyatt said, still suspicious. "You hurt her, I will send you to hell."

Alex sent Wyatt an oh shit look, then scooted closer to Isabel. "Okaaay. So. You like testosterone and long hair," he said to Isabel. "Why didn't you say so? I could've grown mine out. And why do I think your highly reactive boyfriend is being literal?"

If this wasn't Alex, whoever it was was doing a damn good impression of him. Enough that Isabel recognized his nervousness and shot a quick and pleading be nice please look at Wyatt.

"Very literal. This place..." Isabel realized that Alex had died before anyone in Roswell found about about Fandom. "This place is pretty unique. So are most of the people."

"I kill demons for a living," Wyatt said, toning down the grr argh -- just a little bit. "And I'm very protective."

"This is good. Very good. Also, don't kill me. Please. Once was enough." Alex smiled a little less nervously at Isabel. "And yeah, the dream thing. Which I'd expect you to know, since that's your thing."

"That wasn't me. That's this place. Like I said. It's unique." And that uniqueness was giving her a chance to say something in person that she'd been saying to a gravestone for four years. "I'm sorry Alex. You shouldn't have died. Not because of us."

Unable to resist any longer, Isabel reached to grab Alex in a tight hug.

Watching your girlfriend hug her dead ex-boyfriend was...well, awkward. He cleared his throat and said, "You sure that's him, Isabel?"

Just a little awkward and Isabel knew she'd have to make it up to Wyatt later. She stepped back, her eyes still on Alex. "I'm sure," she nodded. "It's strange and impossible, but it's Fandom. It's no stranger then waking up as a cranky vampire or being visited by pixie girls from the future."

Hopefully the mention of Victoria would reassure Wyatt just a little bit.

Alex gave Wyatt a smile that could be called 'perky'. Or the smile of a geek who knows he won't be killed just yet.

"Thank you, Izzy." He beamed with relief. "And the only person I blame for killing me is Tess. Well, and me. I really should've seen that coming."

"You guys want to talk or something then?" Wyatt said. "I can make myself scarce." Look, he was trying to be magnanimous here.

Isabel looked from Wyatt to Alex and then back to Wyatt. "You wouldn't mind?" she asked, biting her lip. There were things she wanted to say to Alex, things that would be easier said without her current boyfriend there listening.

"Yeah, it's cool," Wyatt said. "I get it." He managed a small smile. "It's OK. Really."

Stepping close and wrapping her arm's around Wyatt's waist, Isabel rested her head against his shoulder. "You are amazing and I love you," she said quietly.

Wyatt ducked his head to give her a quick kiss. "Call me if you need me, ok?" he said. "I'll go try to find my not-mom or something. Or maybe I'll go bug Anders."

Alex watched this while trying not feel like a fifth wheel, and restrained the urge to make faces, grab Isabel for another hug, or glare. Mostly, he succeeded.

"Thanks, dude. That's very... human of you."

"I'm half-angel, dude," Wyatt said. No, he wasn't bragging. At all. Really. "I'll, uh, catch you guys later."

Alex got a glare, while Wyatt got a poke in the ribs. "Definitely later," Isabel promised. "Be good."

She gave him another quick kiss then stepped back to avoid being orbed away. Isabel knew Wyatt, walking out the door just wasn't an option at this point.

Of course not. Why walk when you could ~~show off~~ orb. "I will," he said with a cocky grin, then orbed out.

"Shiny colors," Alex marveled, trying not to be impressed. He waved his arm through the space where Wyatt had been, then turned back to Isabel. "Okay, sure, he's handsome, he's got superpowers, he's angelic, but can he play guitar?"

"He's such a show-off," Isabel laughed. "I knew he was going to do that."

After passing a hand over the table and cleaning up the mess from her spilled coffee, Isabel took a seat. "The only guitar he plays is Guitar Hero with Michael sometimes. You're much more musically talented."

"Awesome. I bet he can't hack, either, can he?" Alex grinned at her, shaking his head as she cleaned up the coffee. "Sorry about that. I couldn't resist, just this once, getting the drop on you instead."

"You're lucky I didn't TK you into the wall," she replied with a mock glare. "Or that Wyatt didn't do something similar. He can't hack, but he meant it when he said he's protective." They'd learned that lesson the hard way two years earlier.

"I still can't believe you're here."

"I'm surprised at myself too. But here I am, for one return engagement." Alex's smile turned wry. "And you've got a guy. Of course. I'm glad he's protective, especially with your life, but..."

"He's kind of scary and intimidating. And he's not you," Isabel said quietly.

"He's so not me." Alex shrugged, still smiling. "We never even went on a date. I was working up to it, but then you were here, so... It's stupid. And I'm not supposed to be here to make you feel bad, so could you forget I hinted or implied or actually said any of this?"

"I think I can do that," she smiled softly. "We've got now. We'll talk, I'll fill you in on everything that's happened the last few years. You wouldn't believe the half of it."

"I got nothing but time for you." Alex stretched his arms out expansively. "Hit me with it."

Isabel did just that, giving Alex a detailed description of all of the different types of Fandom wackiness she'd dealt with over the years.

Later they'd talk about more serious things, about Antar, and Tess and the war. But for now it was enough to laugh with an old friend.

Henry felt the pull of the gathering in the woods, but resisted. He quite simply wasn't sure what to make of it.

When he figured it out, he'd be there; until then, he had a large, black coffee and a sesame bagel to keep him company.

"I always told you that was going to stunt your growth," the woman approaching him teased. "Looks like it didn't have much effect. Oh well, you're big enough now to know your mother isn't always right."

She held her arms out, clearly expecting a hug.

Henry froze a moment, putting his cup down carefully. His voice, when he spoke, was almost that of a small child. "Mom? I -- I had a dream, dreams, but this -- how?"

He wasn't too confused to give her that hug, though.

Edited 2010-07-16 01:37 (UTC)

"Don't know," Annette admitted. "Does it matter? I'm here. For a little while, at least."

She stepped back, scrutinizing her son. "I've seen you," she realized, in a far-away voice. "You're that weird guy in our neighborhood who always stares at me. Your father tells me not to pay attention. But ... how?"

"Yeah, Mom, funny story," Henry began, sitting and then jumping up. He was too excited to sit. "Remember how before the crash, I started telling you and Dad I was traveling in time and you thought I was dreaming? I wasn't. I'm still doing it. Sometimes, the good times, I get to see you."

He shook his head. "It's better now that I can talk to you."

"'Traveling in time...'" Annette repeated, then laughed and shook her head. "You have to tell me about that, baby, but tell me everything else first. Did you ever learn to carry a tune?"

"I stayed hopeless," Henry said ruefully. "It's sad, really. But I found a path -- I was at the Newberry for years, and now I'm a high school librarian here on the strangest little island in the world."

He waved, dorkily. "Welcome. Mom." He was never going to get sick of calling her Mom. She was five years younger than he was; he wondered if she'd realized that yet.

Annette hadn't done the math, but she had noticed the gray in his hair and accepted it was likely. She didn't mind; she was used to being 35.

"As long as you're doing something you love," she said philosophically. "Are you happy? Mostly?"

Henry took a moment to answer.

He was sick. He missed his wife. He missed his daughter. He missed his friends. He was damned sure he was going to die in five years or so. And there were lunatics locked up in a back room-slash-mysterious realm at his library.

But. "I'm grateful for every moment of every day," he said truthfully. "And you have the most amazing granddaughter on the face of the earth."

"You have to tell me all about her," Annette requested. "All about her. And I want to hear how your father is doing."

Somehow, she didn't think they'd have a hard time making conversation.

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The Perk, Thursday evening.

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