"Yupmobiles," Rath said as he drove the BMW toward the parking lot's exit. "Gotta love 'em. “

The whine of the siren… or was it more than one?… grew steadily louder in Lonnies ears. "What about our disguises? “

"We'll do 'em ourselves. It'll just take a lot of energy. “

Lonnie sighed. She was almost starting to get used to being tired and depleted.

Almost. "You first," she said.

Rath nodded. As Lonnie watched, his hair slowly turned gray, then migrated from the top of his head to the back and sides, forming a long ponytail that hung down his back. His leathers morphed into a disgustingly retro velour shirt, which opened almost to the navel and exposed a chest covered with wiry white hair.

"How do I look?" Rath wanted to know.

She shrugged. "Like Patrick Stewart having a midlife crisis." Concentrating intensely, Lonnie began to change her own features and clothing, hoping they could get clear of their pursuers before her energies were once again depleted. She chose a familiar face to base her image on, complementing Rath's actorly looks.

Rath drove on in silence, leaving the airport behind and taking an on-ramp for the northbound 405 freeway. Like Ava, the sirens were already becoming a distant memory. Their pursuers no longer knew where to look.

Rath glanced at her, evidently done pouting over her earlier insult. "Nice look, Counselor Troi. If the cops pull us over, they'll probably ask for our autographs. “

Lonnie snorted. "So, where to, Captain? Are we going to try to track down Langley? “

He shook his head. "I know Ava always had a lot of faith in Langley, but she believed in Santa Claus, too.

What's Langley done for us lately? I'm not sure I trust him any more than I trust Ava. “

"Good point," Lonnie said, thinking, If Langley had done a better job looking after us, we wouldn't have had to grow up in the sewers. "So where are we going, then? “

"Where else but Langley 's very own backyard? “

Lonnie was confused. "But you just said you didn't trust Langley. “

"I don't. But can I help it if our no-good, rat-bastard 'protector'"… he accentuated this word with Dr. Evil… style finger-quotes… "happens to live and work in the only place on the entire West Coast where the two of us can fit in without having to shapeshift? “

She gave him a blank look. " Disneyland? “

" Melrose Avenue! “

The BMW roared northward, drowning out Lonnie's delighted laughter.

Then a chilling thought suddenly descended upon her: If the FBI guys really had found Ava by tracking her powers, then what made Rath so certain that they couldn't also do the same thing with either of them? How do we know they're not doing it right now?

Max had to be more careful this time, since dawn was imminent, and the hospital was much busier than it had been only hours ago. He had watched through a window for ten minutes as a nurse did her rounds, before he finally felt comfortable enough to enter the building again.

He quickly made his way back to room 126, but when he got there, he was startled to find that Shania and her sister were gone. Instead, a bulky female nurse was changing the linens on the bed.

Nervously, he cleared his throat. "Excuse me. Where have they moved Shania to? “

The nurse looked at him for a moment, but kept most of her attention on the bedding. "She's made an amazing recovery in the middle of the night. They moved her upstairs, to Ward C. But they're doing some tests on her right now, so you can't see her. Besides, visiting hours haven't started yet. “

"Do you know where her sister is? Lisa? “

"Probably in the commissary. Or the smoking garden. “

Max thanked the nurse and quickly made his way toward the stairway. On the second floor he found a hospital map and located both the commissary and the smoking area.

As he approached the smoking area, he saw through the tall glass windows that the older Cameron sister was indeed there. She hadn't seen him yet, but as he opened the door, the pneumatics on it gave a slight hiss, and she turned.

"What are you doing back?" Her tone wasn't as hostile as before, though he could see the tension in her stance.

"How's Shania? “

"She's doing much better," the woman said, stubbing her cigarette out in a gravel-filled ashtray. "The doctors said it's a miracle she pulled out of the coma, and they can hardly believe how fast her other injuries are healing. The other woman in the wreck is also doing better. They're both out of danger. “

"That's good. “

"Shouldn't you be out of town by now?" Lisa eyed him warily. "You don't know that I didn't call the cops on you as soon as you left the room last time. “

"No, I don't," Max admitted. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a creased envelope. "But I'm hoping that you didn't. “

Lisa sat down on a bench and motioned for Max to do the same. "No, I didn't. Somehow, it didn't seem right. Since it looks like you healed her and all. At least that's what she says. “

Max sat down but said nothing.

"So, what are you, then?" Lisa asked. "Shania thinks you're an angel or something, but I don't think angels are quite gonna look like you. Or have the cops after them. “

Max sighed. "I can't really talk about it. Its not safe for me, and it wouldn't be safe forjyou, if you knew. “

She shot a peculiar look at him for a moment, then nodded. "Fair enough. So why are you back here, then? “

"Because, as you said earlier, this isn't over for you." Max held the envelope out toward her. "This should help with the bills. “

She took the envelope and looked quickly at the contents, then regarded Max with the peculiar look again. "This is a lot of money Is it stolen? “

Max shook his head.

"Drug money? “

"No," Max said. "It's completely safe for you to use. “

She nodded. "Hmmmm. So, you're some kind of rich angel who's running from the law with a bunch of his friends? They all like you? “

Max grinned. "They're all good people. And none of us deserve to be hunted." He stood to leave. "It's best if you don't mention to anyone that you ever saw me or talked to me. “

Lisa stood and winked, a wobbly grin on her face. "Got that." Max started to open the door, but she moved forward. "Hey, I'm sorry to have been such a hard case on you before. Thanks for what you did earlier. And now"… she held out her hand… "if I shake your hand, my hand won't turn silver, will it? “

Max grinned. "Nope." They shook hands, and Max exited the area, feeling good for the first time in almost twenty-four hours.

Roswell, New Mexico The morning sun was still low in the sky, but Jeff Parker was already out in front of the Crashdown, cleaning the windows. Nancy Parker looked out at him and grinned; he was as hardworking today as the day they had met. It was difficult to believe that 2003 was going to bring their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. It seemed like only a few years ago that they had met at that 1978 Village People concert; he was escorting his younger sister, and appeared to be one of the few heterosexual men there. They exchanged numbers and started dating shortly thereafter, and were married later that year. Both of them worked at various jobs for several years before Jeff decided to open his own diner, the Crashdown Cafe, in 1984. Little Elizabeth was barely over a year old then, and quite a handful, but somehow they'd managed to juggle the busy worlds of parenthood and the restaurant trade.

Back then, Nancy would hold Liz in one arm and help cook or waitress with the other. This morning, her arms were unencumbered as she mixed pancake and waffle batter, and kept an eye on the scones to make sure they didn't overbake. Today she didn't know where Liz was, only that she was off with the rest of her friends. What did they call them? "The Bod Squad"? No, "The Pod Squad. “