Disclaimer: This story is not meant to infringe on the characters created by Melinda Metz or the property of the WB network show Roswell.

This was written purely for fun and for the entertainment of the Valenti Valentines.

This is another possible ending to UFO Convention.

Rating: PG13

Bleep!

by MistyMue

"Bleep, Bleep, Bleep!" The sound of the alarm clock pierced the pre-dawn darkness as the man rolled over and slapped the snooze button. Morning came entirely too early anymore and he was tired, just so tired.

Jim Valenti rolled back over and laid still, trying to come out of his twilight sleep. He had been having a wonderful dream before it was interrupted.

He was with Amy Deluca and things were getting hot and heavy. Then the damn alarm goes off. Why, when he was about to score, albeit in his sleep, did the alarm choose that moment to startle him out of his fantasy?

He rolled his head to one side and stared at the clock LED. 6:15. He could relax a few more minutes before having to get up and face the day. His eyes adjusted to the dark as the shapes of his furniture and the outline of the window began to take form.

He stared back up at the ceiling, letting random thoughts run through his head. Thoughts about his father, of his mother; of his son, of Hubble, and of Max Evans.

Max Evans. Jjust a kid in Roswell, but a kid with a big secret. Something Valenti only suspected him of; something he wanted to know so badly, but deep down - feared so desperately.

Until he found out the truth.

Until he finally realized Max was just a kid, an alien kid, lost and stranded in a world he was not born of.

But, Max wasn't alone. He had his sister, Isabel, and his friend, Michael. All alien. All lost. All in danger.

He rubbed his stomach where the bullet had entered, the mortal wound that had threatened to pull him away from this life and into whatever was beyond. Away from his home and his son, Kyle.

Even now, he shuddered as he remembered that night. At the cold, dark ruins of an old gas stop, he remembered how his life was slipping away, drop for drop in the dirt as he bled from a wound he never expected.

As he daydreamed, he felt like he was floating out of himself. He went up towards the ceiling, and looked down on his body, prone on the bed.

He drifted, his mind flashing to the events of last week, after the UFO Convention. To what happened between he, Max Evans, Michael Guerin, and Hubble.

The bullets..

The mortal wound...

The healing. ...

The secret....

It all happened so fast.....

Jim Valenti knew something was wrong. He was driving like a madman to get to Hubble, to find Max. He had to stop Hubble before he did something stupid. Something irreversible.

Hubble was out for blood, Max's blood and Valenti was the cause. It was all his fault. Hubble was fishing and he gave him all the ammunition he needed to go after Max. Now he had to stop him.

"How could I have been so stupid!" he admonished himself. He looked in the rearview mirror at the dirt cloud the cruiser was kicking up. "

Hubble was a madman. He knew that now. Guess he always knew it. Something in the man gave him goose bumps. That Hubble chose to show up to the UFO convention after being underground for so long was no coincidence. Hubble always calculated his moves and he had a reason for being there. And, it wasn't to speak on the panel either.

He pushed the gas pedal to the floor, "Gotta go faster! I have to get there before it's too late."

Jim could see some light up ahead. He slowed ever so slightly, then turned off the main road. As, his lights settled on the old gas station rest stop, he saw figures, struggling in the dim light from Max's jeep.

It was Hubble in a struggle with Max and his friend Michael.

The lights and noise from Jim's cruiser made Michael jump and Max loose his hold on Hubble. Hubble grabbed the gun from the ground and was now holding it on the two boys.

He slammed the gearshift into park and jumped out of the cruiser, leaving it running. Drawing his gun, he ran towards them.

As he approached, he heard the voice of a madman. A madman waving a gun and threatening to shoot.

Jim pointed his gun at Hubble and demanded he drop his gun. The sweat was tricking down his back, his heart pounding in his chest as he pointed the gun at Hubble.

"Drop the gun" Jim demanded again, his had shaking with anticipation of what would happen next.

In the emotion of the moment, it seemed Hubble would indeed shoot Max as he wildly claimed he was a shape-shifting alien and that Max was responsible for the death of his (Hubble's) wife.

Screaming at Valenti, Hubble told the story of how Valenti's father had hesitated all those years ago, in another confrontation, to shoot a man Hubble thought was the shape shifting alien. Jim Valenti's father couldn't do it, could not shoot that man, so Hubble did it. He, Hubble, killed that drifter.

As the words sunk in, Valenti realized Hubble was admitting to killing that man all those years ago, the man his own father was accused of killing. The incident wrecked his father's career and caused his mother to die an early death from a broken heart.

Hubble ignored Valenti's warnings, continuing to scream, and then finally pointed his gun at Max. With that action, Valenti looked into the eyes of a scared kid. In a split second decision, Jim Valenti leveled his gun and pulled the trigger.

The sound of the blast rung in his ears as the bullet found its target and ripped through the old man's chest.

Valenti, Max, and Michael watched as Hubble fell to the ground, clutching his chest.

Valenti ran to Hubble's body to check his pulse. Finding no pulse, he looked up and told the two teenagers standing there, "He's dead." He left the body of the old man in the dirt and went to talk to the two boys.

Max shouted at him, venting all the frustration he had at feeling like a hunted animal and how it was Valenti's job as Sheriff to protect him.

Jim Valenti was ashamed of himself. "Son, I'm sorry," he whispered in an effort to show his remorse.

Max shouted, "Son? Would you treat your son like this?" He got right up into Valenti's face as his friend, Michael, attempted to pull him away and comfort him. Max shrugged him off.

Valenti was stung by those words. Deep down inside he knew he hadn't been much of a father lately either. As he considered his next words to Max, he didn't noticed the movement of the old man lying on the ground. No one did.

Valenti thought Hubble was dead, they all did, but there was life enough in the bitter, old, man to pull a small pistol out of his coat pocket. Life enough life to snarl, "You gutless son-of-a-bitch!" and pull the trigger as Valenti turned around at the sound of Hubble's raspy voice.

Taking the bullet full in the stomach, Valenti fell to the ground and writhed in pain. He had always heard how painful and deadly stomach wounds were. Now he was experiencing it firsthand and it was excruciating.

His stomach area burned. His back ached with a vengeance. He became lightheaded as his life drained away from him as he bled out into the dirt around him. He was going into shock.

Through the haze of his pain, he saw the shock on Max and Michael's face at what had just happened.

Michael rushed Hubble and kicked the gun out of the old man's hand, then dropped to his knees and grabbed him by the coat, pulling his wizened old face up to his. Hubble was indeed dead because he could see there was no life left in his eyes, just the cold stare of death.

As Michael stared into Hubble's open, lifeless eyes, he had the sudden urge to spit in the man's face, so he did. He knew it was an awful thing to do but, it felt good. He would make no apologies for it either.

With all of the grief this man has caused through the years and all of the pain Michael had experienced in his life, spitting in the old man's face was a statement of sorts.

He spit on what this man stood for. For the intolerance of differences, for Hank's abusiveness, and for the knowledge that life for him, for all of them, will always be spent looking over their shoulders because of men like Hubble.

Max was mortified.

"Michael!" he shouted as he ran to pull Michael away from Hubble's body. As Michael looked up at him, he could see the fear and the pain in Max's eyes. Max saw the tears in Michael's.

Valenti watched as Max gently pulled Michael away from the body. As the two of them stood there, he heard words being exchanged as they both pointed to him.

"Save him? You gotta be nuts Max!" Michael screamed and waved his hands in the air, "He'll turn us in. Let him die Max or it's all over for us. It's easy - see they shot each other. End of story!"

Max shook his head and began to walk towards Valenti. Michael grabbed at Max's arm pulling him back, "Don't. Don't do this," he begged.

Max looked at this friend. He could smell the fear on him, sense the fear in him, and he could not blame him one bit for it.

He shook Michael's hand off of him, shouting " I can't! I can't leave him to die in the dirt. He saved me, saved us both by shooting Hubble. You know Hubble was on the verge of shooting us. Valenti made a choice, a choice to save us. Now we have to make a choice... to save him."

Max's eyes were blazing and Michael knew there was no reasoning with him. When he made up his mind, Max was a force to be reckoned with.

Valenti watched as Michael threw up his hands in defeat, mumbling as he walked away.

Max walked towards him and Jim Valenti was suddenly very afraid. Afraid of what would happen to him. Afraid that Hubble was right, that Max was a shape-shifting Alien that has killed before and will now kill again to protect himself.

"Oh god. Don't let me die like this" he moaned. He tried to move, to crawl away to save himself from what he feared might be coming; his own death at the hands of an alien.

He couldn't. The pain was too great and the fog in his mind from lack of blood was clouding his thoughts. He couldn't feel his legs either and he feared he was paralyzed.

Max kneeled next to him and moved him gently so he was lying flat on his back. He leaned down and whispered into his ear, "Sheriff Valenti, I am going to try to heal you, but you have to help. Think of Kyle, of your life, think good thoughts because I need to make a connection, it's the only way."

In the cloud that was Jim Valenti's mind, the words "heal you" passed into a part of his brain that tried its best to process what he heard.

Valenti felt his shirt being pulled up and he was remotely aware of Max's hands, pressing on his stomach. With that touch, he began to feel a warmth there, spreading through him.

In his haze, he heard Max shouting, "Come on Valenti! Work with me here or you will die! Think about Kyle! Where is your will to live? Dammit Valenti - try!"

Jim Valenti struggled within his own mind to comply. He didn't want to die. He had too much to do to accomplish in his life. He wanted a life, a real life, with a woman and with his son.

He summoned up the will to do as Max asked. He thought of Kyle as a little boy and how much he loved him. He thought of his father and mother in that time before his father's breakdown, when he had his father's full attention and love. He thought of Amy, so beautiful and so right for him.

Suddenly there was a presence there with him and memories that were not his own began to inject themselves into his mind...

A brown haired little boy, emerging naked from a pod, followed by a blond haired, naked little girl.

The boy holds out his hand and the girl takes it as they walk away to join another little boy, also blond and naked....

This same dark-haired little boy healing a bird.

The little boy watching a dark-haired little girl dance around the schoolyard.

Max, playing basketball with 2 adults and a beautiful blond girl.... Isabel Evans.

Max, healing another wound, a mortal wound on a young girl.... Liz Parker.

Max, Isabel, Liz, Maria, and Alex standing in a circle trying to heal Michael...

Max's face was contorted as he struggled with the connection. Valenti's memories were both happy and painful, but the connection was there and the information was flowing - in both directions.

Max's memories became Valenti's and Valenti's became Max's. For a moment the man and the boy, the alien and the human - were one.

Max willed the blood from Valenti's clothes to move back into his body before the wound closed and he willed the blood from the ground to move back up the sides of the man lying there, creeping like thick oil back into the body.

He willed the bullet to move away from the spine, where it lodged, to the surface where it came back out the way it went in, rolling off the man's stomach and onto the dirt.

He willed the molecules of Valenti's body to come back together; to heal the spinal cord, to close the wound, and to stop the bleeding.

He willed Valenti's body to begin the process of making more blood to replace the blood that was lost.

As the healing process was ending, the connection was broken. Max sat back on his heels as Michael moved to stand behind him. Max was drained. He sat there, watching Valenti and trying to regain his own strength as Michael stood behind him, hand on Max's shoulder in support.

Jim Valenti was becoming aware. The pain, the god-awful pain was gone. He felt alive, warm, and calm. He opened his eyes to see if he was in heaven...and looked up into the up into the face of Max Evans.

Valenti sat bolt upright, startling Max and causing him to jump up, stepping back a few paces. Michael jumped as well and with his hand on his friends shoulder, backed away with him.

Valenti put his hand to his stomach. No hole, no gooey, sticky blood, nothing but smooth skin. He pulled up his shirt and saw the distinct, glowing, handprint that now displayed on his stomach.

Valenti dropped his shirt, his heart pounding with the knowledge that a moment ago he was dying. And now? Well, now he was alive.

He ran over the memories now present in his mind, memories that were not his own. He acknowledged their presence and that they were a part of him now.

He also realized he had the knowledge of who and what Max was. The knowledge that Max was not alone, that Michael and Isabel were the same. The secret that Max has struggled for so long to keep hidden.

He also knew there was a fourth alien. The one Hubble knew of. The shape shifter and his name was Nasedo.

Max and Michael stood quietly, to terrified to speak or even to run. Waiting for retribution or what? What were they waiting for from Valenti? They watched as he pulled himself to his feet, balancing himself enough to walk over to them.

As Valenti reached them, he stumbled and Max caught him. The two looked into each other's eyes and a realization came over both of them.

For Valenti, the realization that Max was not a threat, but was someone that should be protected. He deserved to be protected and so did the others.

For Max, the realization that a bond now existed between him and this man, the Sheriff of Roswell.

Valenti held on to Max as he spoke, still weak from the healing, but feeling more alive than he ever had.

"Max, thank you. I know what you did was difficult, to reveal yourself to me as you have." He looked at Michael, who was still standing a little behind Max, "And you too Michael. I understand now."

Michael took a step towards Valenti as Max gently helped the Sheriff regain his balance and stand on his own.

"Do you Sheriff? Do you really understand what it has been like for us? Do you know the role you've played in our lives?" Michael demanded.

Jim Valenti smiled, "Yes, I do and I am sorry. I just wanted to know. I honestly did not know what I would do with the knowledge until now. Now I know what to do."

Max looked at him and nervously asked, "And what is that Sheriff?"

Again, Valenti smiled "Well Max, I figure it this way. You saved my life even when you could have left me to die. All the things Hubble said about Aliens and how they kill. I know now that he was wrong, well wrong about you at least."

Valenti paused before continuing, "Max, you've not only healed me, but you healed Liz Parker. You put your life on the line because this world matters to you. The people you love matter to you and for whatever reason you are here, you've made a home and a life. All of you have. It's not my place to interrupt or destroy that."

Michael softened a little, backing of his threatening stance, "So you're saying you won't turn us in?" His eyes flashing with the hope of what the answer would be.

Valenti laughed, "You know Michael, I'm not a stupid man. I know what turning you in would mean. Even if you never healed me and this never happened, even if I found out some other way, I doubt I could ever have subjected the three of you to that. I guess my need to know was the strongest desire I had, but the desire to tell others? No, I know now that wasn't the reason."

"Your pursuit. It was because of your father" Max said, "because of what he suffered. What your family suffered. Right?"

"Yes Max. I watched my father pursue the knowledge only to be betrayed by it in the end. I can't do that to Kyle. I can't do that to you. The Hubbles of the world are out there and they are stupid men. I know that now. You're no threat to national security. All you have ever been guilty of was saving the life of Liz Evans. All of you are just bunch of scared kids who don't know why they have been left here alone. " Jim answered him with his bright blue eyes flashing with emotion.

Max smiled as he watched the color return to Valenti's face and his strength return. Jim felt it too as he was no longer weak, but felt like he could take on the world.

Jim smiled back, then became very serious, "Now, we have to come up with a good story for this" as he swept his hand over the scene with Hubble's body. "I would have been able to cover the first shot, but how am I going to explain this?" He pointed to the hole in his shirt, ringed with very a very small amount of blood.

Max grinned, "Having a resident alien does have its advantages Sheriff." He reached over and waved his hand over the hole. When Valenti looked down the hole was gone and there were no remaining blood stains.

Michael went to Hubble's body and took the small gun out of the man's hand. He also waved his hand over Hubble's head to clean the spit from the dead man's face. Michael wasn't stupid, he knew what this body would now go through. A forensic pathologist could possibly find the residual and test it.

Valenti and Max watched as Michael walked while scanning the ground, then bent over to pick something up. Walking back to them, he opened his hand displaying the bullet Max forced out of Valenti's body.

"This and the gun is the last piece of evidence to be destroyed" Michael said quietly as Jim Valenti picked up the little piece of metal that could have taken his life away if it were not for Max Evans.

Max reached out and took the bullet from Valenti. Michael handed him the gun. Valenti watched in amazement as the gun and the bullet were turned to stone in Max's hands.

Max handed the stone to Valenti, "Here, use it as a paperweight. For all intents and purposes, it is merely a stone. Even analysis will show it is nothing more than a rock, with no traces of metal from a gun or bullet."

Valenti held the rock. It was his reminder, one he would keep the rest of his life.

Looking at Max and Michael with gratitude he whispered, "You kids should get out of here. You were never here - got it? And don't worry, your secret is safe with me. I am the Sheriff in this town and it is my job to protect you and I will. I will be there whenever you need me. I will do my level best to throw the FBI, or whoever comes into this town looking for answers, off your trail. As far as I am concerned you're just normal kids."

Valenti extended his hand, Max reached out and shook it, saying nothing then turning away to walk towards his Jeep. Nothing need to be said, it was all in the memories, in the healing, and in the handshake. Sheriff Jim Valenti was now an ally.

Valenti turned to Michael and extended his hand to him. Michael stepped in and as he shook Valenti's hand, a small connection was made. Jim Valenti saw why Michael was the town bad-boy, the malcontent who didn't trust anyone, and who now was now trusting someone for the first time in his life. Valenti said nothing, but just smiled at him. Michael nodded, and dropping Valenti's hand , walked away to join his friend.

As Jim Valenti watched them walk away, he heard them discussing Isabel and how she needed to know. Isabel, he now knew, was the third alien. Now he understood why he elicited such a look of fear from the beautiful young girl every time he looked at her. He took comfort in the knowledge that after tonight, the fear would be gone from her face.

The Jeep roared off and Valenti pulled out his radio. Back to his duty, back to covering up this night, but not back to a normal life because as of this moment, life for Jim Valenti was forever changed....

"Bleep! Bleep! Bleep!" The alarm went off again at the end of the snooze cycle, startling him again and for the second time this morning, interrupted something. This time Jim Valenti rolled over and turned it off.

But he still wasn't ready to get up yet.

He though of Amy again and of how she looked in the dream.

She was lying on the bed, with those big gorgeous eyes enticing him to join her. As he slipped in next to her, he could feel the softness of her skin as he ran his hands over her stomach. He could smell the scent of her hair, taste the sweetness of her lips as she pressed her mouth to his.

Even in a dream she was so alluring, so perfect for him. A place he wanted to go to be a normal man. To loose himself in the warmth of her being.

He knew the dream was a mechanism for him, a sub-conscious way for his psyche to protect him, help him with the knowledge he now possessed by offering him a fantasy he hoped would someday be a reality, that Amy would be with him that way.

As he remembered kissing Amy, he became acutely aware of a part of his anatomy that was also remembering. Picking up the blankets and staring down towards his feet he exclaimed, "Whoa Boy! Now is NOT the time!"

He dropped the blankets in frustration, then decided it was time to get out of the bed and face the day. Another day as Roswell's Sheriff.

Throwing the blankets aside, he put his feet down on the cold floor. Reaching over to the alarm clock, he made sure it was off. He stood up and grabbed a robe, slipping it on as he walked to the door. He opened it and walked down the hall to his son's room.

Kyle Valenti was fast asleep and snoring. Jim paused at the door to watch him. He was so grown up, no longer daddy's little boy. Soon he'd be off to some college on an athletic scholarship. Well, he hoped he'd get one. He was a good sportsman, he should get something.

He considered their relationship as of late. It was strained to say the least. Not that they didn't love each other, but they were never in the same place at the same time.

"It's just that he's at that teenage stage and me? Well, I've been too busy with other stuff, " he thought to himself as he listened to his son breathing.

He instantly admonished himself "What a piss poor excuse. Too busy for my own son, but it will change now. I have a new chance and Kyle will know how much I love him."

He walked over to Kyle, reached down, and shook him gently saying, "Kyle, Kyle, get up. Come on cowboy, time for school."

Kyle rolled over and blinked. Realizing the face above him was his father's, he began to stretch and asked, "What time is it?"

Jim answered, "Bout 6:45. Time to get ready for school." He turned to leave as Kyle was stretching, grunting, and groaning as most people do while making the adjustment to being awake.

As Jim reached the door he heard a "phffffffffft" noise and turning around exclaimed, "Kyle! Must you be so flatulent in the morning?"

Kyle laughed, "Dad - I farted! What's the big deal? You fart."

Jim laughed with his son, "Yeah, but you do this every damn morning - like clockwork! You save it up all night just to blast me in the morning when I wake you up. It's like a get-even kind of thing."

Kyle was sitting up, scratching himself as he chuckled, "Yeah, right. And I suppose my diet of hot Mexican food and beans has absolutely nothing to do with it. I simply fart on demand because I know it pisses you off!"

Jim shook his head and laughed, "just get your ass dressed for school."

Jim left Kyle's room and went to take a shower. As the water ran over his body, he thought of Amy again, then stopped himself, "Dammit Jim - cut it out! Can't walk around all day with a woody when you can just about get in those jeans now!" He laughed at himself, so desperate not to display himself in that way.

After he dressed, he went to the kitchen and began to make some breakfast for his son. He never took the time to do this, but today was different.

A week after the shooting, he had finally came to terms with it. From now on, he would be different, pay more attention to Kyle, pay more attention to Amy, be a changed man.
Well, not too changed because he did not want to run the risk of anyone noticing he was different.

Kyle appeared as Jim was putting a plate of eggs and toast on the table. The juice was poured and the coffee was hot.

Kyle dropped his backpack on the floor, exclaiming "Well, well what's the special occasion?" He pulled out a chair and sat down, grabbing the juice and swigging it down.

'No occasion, just felt like giving my son a good breakfast. Is that okay?" Jim took a drink of coffee as Kyle dug into his breakfast.

"Sure!" Kyle grinned, "anytime you want to cook you know I will eat! Pass the jelly."

Jim passed the jelly to Kyle asking, "What time is the game tonight?"

Kyle mumbled, his mouth full of food "7:00. You coming?" Kyle flinched when he asked because he knew what the answer would be. The answer would be no, because his father had something-or-other going on and deep down he didn't want to hear it again so he wondered why he even asked.

"Yeah, I'll be there and maybe afterward, we can go have a pizza or something and you know, catch up?" Jim smiled as he held his coffee up, but didn't drink. He waited for Kyle's answer while staring at him over the rim of the cup.

Kyle stopped eating and his whole demeanor brightened, "You are, I mean you will? Great! Pizza? Yeah pizza sounds good!" He put his fork down and looking at the clock declared, "I gotta get going or I'll be late."

Kyle grabbed his pack off the floor and charged for the door. Jim stood up, "Yeah, you go on. I'll see ya at the game."

Kyle stopped. He turned back to his father and smiled, "Have a good day Dad."

Jim walked over to his son and grabbed him into a bear hug. Kyle hugged back and then slipped out the door. He didn't see the tears in his father's eyes.

Jim wiped his eyes and walked back to the table. He began to clear the remnants of the meal from the table, dropping the plates in the sink. Running some water over them so the eggs wouldn't stick, he thought again of Amy and how much a women's touch was needed here in his home with Kyle.

He shook his head as he reached over the sink and took his Thermos off the window sill, where he left it to dry the night before. Running some hot water in it to bring it up to temperature, he shook it a little, then poured the water out and refilled it with the leftover coffee. He screwed the lid on and turned off the coffee pot.

He went to the key rack by the door and took the keys to his cruiser. He picked his hat off the hat rack, stuck his Thermos under his arm, then taking a last look around the kitchen, opened the door and left.

Jim turned and pulled the door shut, locking the deadbolt. Trying the door to ensure it was locked. He turned to walk to his cruiser and came face-to-face with Isabel Evans.

He stopped in his tracks as she smiled widely at him, her beautiful eyes sparkling. He tipped his hat, "Morning Miss Evans. What brings you here?"

"Isabel, please - call me Isabel." She smiled again as she answered and he was struck by her beauty.

She was dressed in a pale peach sweater that enhanced her figure, and a matching pair of pale peach jeans. Her golden hair spilled down her shoulders and reflected the morning sunlight in flashes as she moved.

Jim chuckled inwardly as he thought, "Boy if they grow them to look like her on that planet of hers, I hope the send a few more of them down here."

Just as soon as he thought it, he reprimanded himself for it. "Dirty old man."

Isabel began to speak, "Sheriff Valenti. I..."

He interrupted her, "Jim, Isabel - call me Jim."

"Jim. Okay. I, ah, I am sorry for not coming to talk to you sooner. I had a lot to think about after the, you know, the incident with Max and Michael." Isabel's eyes were gorgeous and they flashed with emotion as she spoke.

"I know Isabel, so did I. That's why I stayed away from all of you. Let it all sink in, know what I mean?" Jim smiled again, his ice blue eyes twinkling.

Isabel grinned, "I just wanted to say thank you. You don't know what it means to me, to all of us, to know you will keep our secret. That you will help protect us."

Jim flushed. He wanted nothing more than to reassure her that they were all safe, but he couldn't.

"Isabel. Even though I am here and I will help, we all have to be careful. No missteps. Watch yourself Isabel. Be aware of your surroundings. If anything seems out of place, anything, a car a person or a situation, you come to me right away. Okay?" he advised her.

Isabel shook her head in agreement, "Yes, I understand. I promise."

Just then the beep of a horn startled them. Jim could see Max at the wheel of the Jeep, with Michael in the back. Isabel turned and waved to indicate she was coming.

"Well, I better go. I shouldn't be late for school." Isabel started to walk away, but stopped. She turned around and walking quickly towards him, threw her arms around him, kissing him on the cheek.

Jim Valenti, the town Sheriff of Roswell, melted in her arms. She pulled away and saying goodbye, quickly ran to the Jeep and climbed inside. Turning back, she waved as Max started the Jeep. Max smiled at Jim before putting the jeep in gear and pulling out.

Michael sat in the back, with his hand up. Not in a wave, but just held up, palm out, in acknowledgement of the pact that bound them all together now. Jim held his hand up in silent recognition as they drove away.

Jim watched the Jeep until it turned the corner and was out of sight. He strode over to his cruiser and jumped in. As he started the cruiser, his radio crackled. "Hey, Sheriff you there?"

Valenti rolled his eyes. Talk about not following procedure for contacting the Sheriff. He grabbed the mike and responded back, "Yeah I'm here, I am on my way in."

"Uh, don't forget the donuts. It's your turn." The voice came out of the radio as Valenti stifled a laugh before replying, "Don't worry, I won't forget."

He glanced at the passenger seat. The rock from the other night sat there in the same place he threw it. He picked it up and examined it again.

It was just a rock. Nothing special, but it would be a reminder to him for the rest of his life.

As he held the rock he finally decided to take it to the office and use it for a paperweight. He had come to grips with everything, so now he could deal with this as well. He tossed the rock back on the seat.

Putting the cruiser in reverse, he backed down the driveway. Taking one last look at the house, he drove away towards another day as the same old Roswell Sheriff.

The same Sheriff, yes, but a changed man.