Room 406, evening
Despite spending Sunday at the football game, Isabel still felt that she did okay on both of Monday's exams. Her next exam wasn't until Wednesday, so she didn't feel the need to start studying immediately. Instead she pulled out her phone and dialed a number she'd been resisting calling for a while.
Hopefully they had the phone on.
Max and Michael had been arguing over the map when the phone rang, and Max had been happy to have the distraction to call a time-out, checking the ID before answering.
"Hey, Isabel." He slapped a hand down on the map when Michael tried to appropriate it. "What's up?"
Surprised, but beyond pleased that Max actually sounded sort of cheerful, Isabel grinned at the phone. "I'm just calling to see how the excellent adventure is going. Where are you?"
"Steamboat Springs, Colorado." He grimaced out the window. "And it's snowing. And we have to find somewhere to stay--"
"We can keep driving and make it to Grand Junction by midnight, I'm telling you...."
"Yeah, no." Max jerked the map back again and said into the phone. "We're still having a good time, really. No arrests yet."
"Always a good thing. Although I'm sure Mom and Dad would send bail," Isabel laughed. "But do you really want to face them? Or the Sheriff after you got out?"
"No, they really don't need that," Max admitted, then glared at Michael. "And it's lucky they don't jail you for speeding tickets. Someone doesn't read signs."
"Someone racked up parking tickets in Cleveland without trying, too. Talk about lame. Hey, Isabel," Michael said toward the phone. "Tell Max we can drive in snow. We have four-wheel-drive, what's the problem?"
"Color me shocked," she said dryly. "Tell him just because you have four wheel drive doesn't mean the rest of the world does. Or even if they do, it doesn't mean they know how to drive with it properly. Pull over and call it a night. No one will take away manly points on you."
"Isabel thinks you're insecure in your manhood," Max told Michael, then ducked when his best friend started throwing salt packets at him.
"That's my part of the plan, because it's already dark and these roads are deadly even with no one else on them. I don't need to be cold and camping out again any time soon," Max added dryly. "How are things going at school?"
Isabel rolled her eyes. "I did not say that. Besides, Maria has told me otherwise. Which is way more information then I need to know."
Stretching out on her bed, she made herself comfortable. "Camping out in December is not fun. Unless you have someone to snuggle with. And since I know that Liz and Maria are both back in Roswell..." Isabel shuddered. "Dammit, now that's a mental picture I. Did. Not. Need."
"School's fine. Exams are this week. Then Wyatt will bring me home over the weekend."
Max smirked, and then looked over at Michael. "So. The boyfriend. The one with the hair. You're still dating him?"
Michael's eyebrows rose and he hissed, "Ask her if he's related to any of those glowy ganderium."
"Michael wants to know if your boyfriend is related to the alien mushrooms."
A bit sadly Isabel realized a lot had changed since the last time Max teased her about her love life. "Greg and I broke up when I got back." She was pretty sure Max would understand from where.
"But that's okay. There's someone else now. I guess Mom didn't tell you," she said with a smile. "Remember Wyatt?"
"Oh, Mom told me," Max said, leaning back to check out the snow coming down outside. "Seriously, Isabel. What's up with you and guys who use more product than Michael?"
"Hey!"
"Used to," Max added without missing a beat. "I'm sorry about the break-up. I guess? Though if you've got a new guy, that's good."
"We can have fun threatening him when we see you," Michael said, definitely loud enough to be heard.
"Michael might want to consider more product. I like spiky better then that hanging in the face thing he's got going now."
Isabel shrugged then realized Max couldn't see it. "It's okay. Really. I needed some time on my own."
"Speaking of when you see me," she said seriously. "Christmas is next week."
"It's almost Christmas already? Hmmmm. Wow, how did that happen?" Mas said, grinning as Michael rolled his eyes. "How many strings of lights do you have hung around your room?"
"There's approximately five hundred lights on the tree," she told him. "Of course the tree is only a bit over three feet tall."
"Isabel Evans, owner of the world's smallest re-creation of Rockefeller Center," Max teased. "When are you planning on getting home next week?"
"Shut up." But she said it without heat and laughed. "At some point over the weekend. That's the nice thing about dating an angelic witch. No need to worry about traveling by plane. He'll just bring me out when I'm ready."
"He's probably going to be around for at least part of the time I'm there. You guys WILL be nice. Won't you?"
"I'm always nice," Max said mildly. "If other people's boyfriends are nice."
"Pfffttt." Michael smirked and leaned forward to be heard better. "We won't break the Geneva Convention! Be happy with that!"
"He's very, very nice," Isabel told him. Max could interpret the smug tone however he'd like.
"Don't make me have to hurt you Michael."
Michael heard that and responded, "Yeah, right. We'll see," while Max made faces at him and then pulled the phone closer.
"We missed you," he said more seriously. "And we got you some good souvenirs. Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. Sears Tower. The House on the Rock." He grinned a little. "A T-shirt from where they have the world's biggest ball of string."
"Just what I've always wanted," she said with a small smile. "You sound like you've been enjoying yourselves. I'm glad."
"It's been... it's been good." Max was quiet a minute, thinking of the way the long month had let him and Michael re-adjust to not being in a war zone. It hadn't made them miss their family, or Liz and Maria, any less. But-- "We're not ready to stay in Roswell again yet. But we want to see you. And everyone else."
Considering the way Isabel had avoided Roswell herself when she first got back, she understood. "You just want presents," she teased gently.
"And cookies," Max deadpanned. "Don't forget the cookies."
"She can't make me sing, though."
"You're so delusional." Max threw a salt packet back at Michael, then said, "So we'll see you soon. If we don't end up eaten by a bear."
"Just one verse of Silent Night? Please?"
Incredibly and deeply content, Isabel smiled into the phone. "You'd better. And if you meet a bear, just bribe him with a donut. I'd be shocked if you don't have a stash in the car."
"We'll get Maria to pout at him, you know that always works."
"Traitor."
"Yeah, well, they're good for when you miss the turn-off to the interstate and the last 7-11 was a state away," Max admitted, then grinned. "We'll bring you back a bearskin, okay?"
"Bye Isabel!" Michael called. "Tell that Wyatt guy not to get too comfortable."
"See you in Roswell," Max added.
Considering the conversation she'd had with Wyatt the other night, that bearskin could be useful. Not that she'd ever tell the boys that.
"Bye guys. Love you."
"Love you too, Isabel," Max said, lowering his voice. "Take care."
"I'm trying. You do the same okay?" It was nice to reconnect like this, without the drama they'd dealt with for so long.
"Sure thing. But we'll still call if we need bail," Max said, smiling. "Bye, Isabel." And hung up before she could get out a comeback.
"Dude, Silverthorne. We could at least make it to the interstate--"
"Give it up, Michael."
Amused, Isabel put her phone down and pulled out one of her favorite trashy novels.
[OOC: Preplayed with the wonderful girlzippo who does such a wonderful job channeling Max and Michael. Door and post are both open.]
Hopefully they had the phone on.
Max and Michael had been arguing over the map when the phone rang, and Max had been happy to have the distraction to call a time-out, checking the ID before answering.
"Hey, Isabel." He slapped a hand down on the map when Michael tried to appropriate it. "What's up?"
Surprised, but beyond pleased that Max actually sounded sort of cheerful, Isabel grinned at the phone. "I'm just calling to see how the excellent adventure is going. Where are you?"
"Steamboat Springs, Colorado." He grimaced out the window. "And it's snowing. And we have to find somewhere to stay--"
"We can keep driving and make it to Grand Junction by midnight, I'm telling you...."
"Yeah, no." Max jerked the map back again and said into the phone. "We're still having a good time, really. No arrests yet."
"Always a good thing. Although I'm sure Mom and Dad would send bail," Isabel laughed. "But do you really want to face them? Or the Sheriff after you got out?"
"No, they really don't need that," Max admitted, then glared at Michael. "And it's lucky they don't jail you for speeding tickets. Someone doesn't read signs."
"Someone racked up parking tickets in Cleveland without trying, too. Talk about lame. Hey, Isabel," Michael said toward the phone. "Tell Max we can drive in snow. We have four-wheel-drive, what's the problem?"
"Color me shocked," she said dryly. "Tell him just because you have four wheel drive doesn't mean the rest of the world does. Or even if they do, it doesn't mean they know how to drive with it properly. Pull over and call it a night. No one will take away manly points on you."
"Isabel thinks you're insecure in your manhood," Max told Michael, then ducked when his best friend started throwing salt packets at him.
"That's my part of the plan, because it's already dark and these roads are deadly even with no one else on them. I don't need to be cold and camping out again any time soon," Max added dryly. "How are things going at school?"
Isabel rolled her eyes. "I did not say that. Besides, Maria has told me otherwise. Which is way more information then I need to know."
Stretching out on her bed, she made herself comfortable. "Camping out in December is not fun. Unless you have someone to snuggle with. And since I know that Liz and Maria are both back in Roswell..." Isabel shuddered. "Dammit, now that's a mental picture I. Did. Not. Need."
"School's fine. Exams are this week. Then Wyatt will bring me home over the weekend."
Max smirked, and then looked over at Michael. "So. The boyfriend. The one with the hair. You're still dating him?"
Michael's eyebrows rose and he hissed, "Ask her if he's related to any of those glowy ganderium."
"Michael wants to know if your boyfriend is related to the alien mushrooms."
A bit sadly Isabel realized a lot had changed since the last time Max teased her about her love life. "Greg and I broke up when I got back." She was pretty sure Max would understand from where.
"But that's okay. There's someone else now. I guess Mom didn't tell you," she said with a smile. "Remember Wyatt?"
"Oh, Mom told me," Max said, leaning back to check out the snow coming down outside. "Seriously, Isabel. What's up with you and guys who use more product than Michael?"
"Hey!"
"Used to," Max added without missing a beat. "I'm sorry about the break-up. I guess? Though if you've got a new guy, that's good."
"We can have fun threatening him when we see you," Michael said, definitely loud enough to be heard.
"Michael might want to consider more product. I like spiky better then that hanging in the face thing he's got going now."
Isabel shrugged then realized Max couldn't see it. "It's okay. Really. I needed some time on my own."
"Speaking of when you see me," she said seriously. "Christmas is next week."
"It's almost Christmas already? Hmmmm. Wow, how did that happen?" Mas said, grinning as Michael rolled his eyes. "How many strings of lights do you have hung around your room?"
"There's approximately five hundred lights on the tree," she told him. "Of course the tree is only a bit over three feet tall."
"Isabel Evans, owner of the world's smallest re-creation of Rockefeller Center," Max teased. "When are you planning on getting home next week?"
"Shut up." But she said it without heat and laughed. "At some point over the weekend. That's the nice thing about dating an angelic witch. No need to worry about traveling by plane. He'll just bring me out when I'm ready."
"He's probably going to be around for at least part of the time I'm there. You guys WILL be nice. Won't you?"
"I'm always nice," Max said mildly. "If other people's boyfriends are nice."
"Pfffttt." Michael smirked and leaned forward to be heard better. "We won't break the Geneva Convention! Be happy with that!"
"He's very, very nice," Isabel told him. Max could interpret the smug tone however he'd like.
"Don't make me have to hurt you Michael."
Michael heard that and responded, "Yeah, right. We'll see," while Max made faces at him and then pulled the phone closer.
"We missed you," he said more seriously. "And we got you some good souvenirs. Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. Sears Tower. The House on the Rock." He grinned a little. "A T-shirt from where they have the world's biggest ball of string."
"Just what I've always wanted," she said with a small smile. "You sound like you've been enjoying yourselves. I'm glad."
"It's been... it's been good." Max was quiet a minute, thinking of the way the long month had let him and Michael re-adjust to not being in a war zone. It hadn't made them miss their family, or Liz and Maria, any less. But-- "We're not ready to stay in Roswell again yet. But we want to see you. And everyone else."
Considering the way Isabel had avoided Roswell herself when she first got back, she understood. "You just want presents," she teased gently.
"And cookies," Max deadpanned. "Don't forget the cookies."
"She can't make me sing, though."
"You're so delusional." Max threw a salt packet back at Michael, then said, "So we'll see you soon. If we don't end up eaten by a bear."
"Just one verse of Silent Night? Please?"
Incredibly and deeply content, Isabel smiled into the phone. "You'd better. And if you meet a bear, just bribe him with a donut. I'd be shocked if you don't have a stash in the car."
"We'll get Maria to pout at him, you know that always works."
"Traitor."
"Yeah, well, they're good for when you miss the turn-off to the interstate and the last 7-11 was a state away," Max admitted, then grinned. "We'll bring you back a bearskin, okay?"
"Bye Isabel!" Michael called. "Tell that Wyatt guy not to get too comfortable."
"See you in Roswell," Max added.
Considering the conversation she'd had with Wyatt the other night, that bearskin could be useful. Not that she'd ever tell the boys that.
"Bye guys. Love you."
"Love you too, Isabel," Max said, lowering his voice. "Take care."
"I'm trying. You do the same okay?" It was nice to reconnect like this, without the drama they'd dealt with for so long.
"Sure thing. But we'll still call if we need bail," Max said, smiling. "Bye, Isabel." And hung up before she could get out a comeback.
"Dude, Silverthorne. We could at least make it to the interstate--"
"Give it up, Michael."
Amused, Isabel put her phone down and pulled out one of her favorite trashy novels.
[OOC: Preplayed with the wonderful girlzippo who does such a wonderful job channeling Max and Michael. Door and post are both open.]