Disclaimer/Author's Note: Takes place between Danilise's "Husbands and Fathers" and "Stars." I thought Izzy could use a little limelight too. Thanks to Dani, for letting me play here, and thanks to the WB, Melinda Metz, Jason Katims, et al for creating such wonderful characters that I don't own, but I'd like to.

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"You're what?" The look on Max's usually quiet face was incredulous.

"Adopting," Alex repeated, his face passive. "A-D-O-P--"

"I know how to spell it," her brother broke in. "But what if...?"

"What if our child decides to rebel against his parents and tell the world his mother's an alien? Is that what you're worried about, Max?" She loved her brother. She loved him more than anyone but Alex, but sometimes, he could be so...Max...

Isabel knelt in front of him, cupping his face in her hands. "Max, we want a baby. We're ready for a baby. And I can't...I can't..." Her nieces were seven and four years old, clamoring for another baby girl cousin to break the balance of boy and girl cousins, since Maria's twin boys were a year old. And sometimes it seemed like she was the last alien on earth, all alone, as usual. She wanted someone to share that lullaby with, that one she knew her mother sang to her. And if the child wouldn't have stick-out ears and clear blue eyes like Alex, she could live with that.

"Max, we want someone to share our lives with. Does it matter if the baby is human or not? He'll still be ours."

"Just like we belong to Mom and Dad." Max's voice was soft. "He?"

And a proud smile broke over Alex's face, lighting up his eyes. "He. Matthew Philip Whitman. Due in one month." And from his pocket, he took out a worn sonogram picture.

"Matthew Philip?" Michael grinned as he gave his oldest son Stephen a horsie ride on his knee. Maria held the other sleeping twin, Leo, on her lap, his curly brown head resting against her breast. Isabel had never seen Michael so content. Even Max got that sappy look on his face whenever his little princess snuggled up against him. Claudia was Daddy's girl in every way, and so was little Nikki.

But Alex heard the sigh she couldn't suppress and put his arms around her. He wanted a piece of them to love as much as she did. She just wanted to give another little baby a chance not to grow up in a horrible foster home like Michael did. Like she almost did.

"His mother named him Matthew, because she thinks he's a gift from the heavens," she answered, taking comfort in Alex's embrace.

"And Philip for Dad." Max was quiet for a long time. "So it's almost finalized then?"

Alex nodded. She and Max both knew how long it took for adoptions to go through. Yet somehow, their parents had managed to push theirs at lightspeed.

"This way, there's no worries about hospitals, and how the baby might come out..." If she said it enough, she could convince herself that she didn't want a child of her own. That she didn't need the flesh of her flesh and the bone of her bone to connect her to this earth. That raising a baby might be enough.

But Max knew. And Michael knew. It was Max's turn to touch her face lightly, giving her the same big brother look that had solved so many of her problems in the past. But she couldn't curse biology, or ask for Michael's sperm so that she could have a child of her own. She loved Alex and her friends too much. She could be strong, and take their strength as her own. They would get through it together.

A month later, a small, squirming bundle of 6 pounds, 15 ounces was placed into her arms, and the tiny baby's blue eyes met hers and captured her soul forever. This strong urge to protect and shelter--this was love. This was the completion that she never thought she'd find. And from the way Alex's eyes shone, she could tell he felt it too.

"Matthew Philip Whitman." There were tears in his voice. "Welcome home, baby. Welcome to the world. There are a lot of people waiting to meet you."

And the mother of their child smiled at them, her soft blue eyes so young and innocent. "I'm glad someone will take good care of him."

And Isabel couldn't help but wonder if her mother had thought those same words, moments before the ship crashed. And from somewhere inside her, she remembered that haunting melody, and began to hum a first song to her baby boy.

"Mom, Dad...meet your grandson." Tiny Matthew Philip, already growing dark fluff on his head, sleepily opened his mouth and smacked his lips before staring solemnly at the crowd at the Crashdown. Only a week old, and he was already proving to be a rambunctious baby. Alex swore that his every cry was musical, and Isabel knew in her heart that he was the most perfect baby alive. It didn't matter that his blood didn't run in her veins. He was born to be her son. Some higher force had brought him and her and Alex together to be a family. They were chosen.

Her mother held out her arms for her grandson, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Welcome, baby," she heard her mom whisper, lightly kissing Matthew's fragile forehead. Her father only kissed the baby too, too choked up to say anything. Even Carl and Amanda Whitman were teary-eyed as they welcomed their first grandchild into the family. As her son made the rounds to her brother, Liz, Michael and Maria, she could see them each fall under his spell. There was something magical about him, and his little turned up nose.

"Mommy, his ears even stick out like Daddy's and mine." Claudia's voice was soft as she touched her new cousin's tiny face. "Hi, I'm your cousin Claudia, and I'm gonna teach you the star game when you're older."

Nikki just wrinkled up her nose. "Another boy. We already have two. We need another girl, Auntie Izzy." And she smiled her father's cheeky grin. With a tenderness she'd only seen in Michael as a father, Nicole bent her blond head and brushed her lips against Matthew's forehead. "We love you, baby. Just don't get all stinky like the brats. Daddy and I can teach you to fingerpaint when you're bigger."

Maria enveloped Isabel in a soft hug, smelling of a mix of milk and Cyprus oil, as she usually did these days. "He's beautiful, Izzy." More than a decade ago, Maria would've never dreamed of hugging her. But that was another life, before Max told their secret, and in an odd way, freed them.

"Thanks, Maria." She kissed her sister-in-law's cheek, wondering if Maria were pregnant again. But Maria and Michael both seemed to have this serenity around them now. They still fought, but it was more in play now. As if having a family of their own had finally completed them too.

"Auntie Izzy, are you feeling okay?" Nikki peered at her, her dark eyes worried. "You look sick." Her niece sat on the floor with four month old Matthew, playing a game of patty-cake. Her son gurgled, grabbing on to his cousin's paint-covered hand. But she couldn't be sick. She'd never been sick a day in her life.

And her stomach roiled in protest, as if it were starting World War III. What was this? Was she dying? Would she cocoon up like Michael had? She could feel the fear rushing up in her throat...

And luckily she made it to the bathroom in time.

"UNCLE ALEX!"

And she heard pounding feet as she rested her head against the cold porcelain of the toilet. And familiar arms cradled her gently. "Baby? You okay?"

She whimpered. "I just threw up..."

His hands stroked her hair back from her face. "It happens sometimes, baby."

"No, you don't understand. I just threw up. I've never thrown up." That rush that she couldn't control, the recoil of food, that taste... She buried her face in his chest, tears pouring down her face. "We don't...we just...don't."

He rocked her gently, whispering to her as if she were their son.

"Auntie Izzy?" Nikki's soft voice came from the doorway. Her pixie-faced niece entered the bathroom, carrying little Matthew in her arms. "Mommy always says that Cyprus Oil helps her when she's throwing up like you did."

Isabel cracked a smile. "Your mommy's brain's been warped by everything she's sniffed over the years."

Nicole giggled. "That's what Daddy says too sometimes." When she smiled, Isabel could see Maria's dimples and Michael's smile in the sassy little face. "Mommy only usually pukes as big as that when she's prego though. Have you and Uncle Alex been having too much sex, cuz that's what Uncle Max says causes all the babies at our house?" Her round dark eyes were the picture of innocence.

"Nicole Maria Guerin!" Just like one of her brother's failed jokes too...

And Nikki's face broke into its usual impish grin as she carried her baby cousin back out to the family room.

"Baby...how long has it been since your last period?" Alex's voice was soft. "I know you're usually as regular as the full moon, but lately..."

She looked up at him. "I had one two months ago, when Matthew almost swallowed that button that the twins pulled off their overalls..." She tried to deny the hope that began to rise in her heart. "You don't think I'm..."

And that tender smile came over her husband's face. "Isabel...what if..."

And in her mind, the soft lullaby hummed on.

"Come on, Maria, do you really think this will work?" Isabel hovered over the small vial with her still slender blond sister-in-law.

"It's either that, or go to a doctor, Izzy. And Max is too far away for you to ship him a sample so that he can do the test." Maria glared at the timer, and the tiny bottle that sat on the bathroom sink. "Dammit, hurry up!"

Maria's fingers were cold in Isabel's. Maria seemed just as anxious, almost as if...

"You're pregnant again, aren't you?" Maria had a natural vibrating glow about her, so that wasn't always the best way to tell.

And her blond best friend blushed, grinning that demented tinkerbell grin of hers. "Three months...Michael flashed it the other night--we think it's a girl this time." Her face grew serious. "I think this'll be the last one though. Four kids in four years is a little much..."

Isabel put her arm around Maria, hugging her gently. "But we wouldn't have it any other way." They leaned against each other for a while, and Isabel couldn't help feeling companionship with the girl who had become in every sense one of her best friends.

"Completion. It's completion." And there was a soft smile on Maria's face.

And in the little vial, the pregnancy test glowed a vibrant blue.

She walked out of the bathroom to find Alex and Michael sitting there. Nicole sat on her father's knee, perfectly still for once.

Alex's blue eyes looked at her.

"Well?" Michael's foot was jiggling. "Izzy?" When she didn't answer, he looked to his wife. "Cheesehead?"

Maria shook her head to shush him, then went to sit on his other knee. "Let Isabel tell." She ran her hand through his hair to calm his nerves.

Alex stood, cradling Matthew in one arm.

For a long moment, she couldn't speak. She took his hand in hers, and then placed it over her belly. "Say hi to your son or daughter, Daddy."

Her husband closed his eyes, no readable expression on his face. He gave a deep, shuddering sigh, tears trickling out from under his eyelids.

"Baby. A...a...baby? Our baby?"

He opened his eyes and fell to his knees. Wrapping his free arm around her waist, he gently kissed her still flat belly. Then he looked up at her, and bathed her in the light of one of his 1000 watt grins. "A baby."

Nicole clapped. "A baby sister and a baby cousin!"

Alex and Michael both shot looks at the curly blond urchin.

"How did you know that, Pixie?" Michael's voice was soft.

"I saw the baby when I touched Mama's tummy, Daddy."

Isabel could feel the panic beginning to well up in her throat. And Alex, still tuned to her slightest shifts in moods, looked up at her, the same fear in his eyes.

Maria had enough trouble bringing Nicole into the world, and she was fully human. And when the twins were born two years later, it came dangerously close to having a c-section.

But Isabel wasn't of the earth, and any hospital would be able to tell that fact.

"Hello, Evans residence?" The voice at the other end of the phone was polite, but sounded very small.

"Claudi? It's Uncle Alex. Is your dad home?"

"Uncle Alex!" He could almost see his niece's slow, sweet smile. "Daddy's home, but Mommy's still teaching class." And then her voice got worried. "Is something wrong with Auntie Izzy?" He chuckled, hearing her father in the young voice.

"Auntie Izzy's fine, hon. We just wanted to talk to Max."

"Okay. Daddy!" he heard the phone thump to the floor, and small feet running.

"Hello?" Max's voice was breathless, and he was panting slightly.

"Hey, Max, it's Alex."

"What's wrong? Is it Izzy? Or Mom?" Even years later, his brother-in-law's first thoughts were of safety.

"No, we're fine here. But Isabel has some news."

"Is it Matthew?"

Alex chuckled. "No, Max. You're going to be an uncle again."

And he heard the phone hit the floor for a second time. "Max?"

Isabel grabbed the cordless from the kitchen. "Max?" Her voice trembled.

"You're pregnant, Izzy?" Her brother's voice was gentler now.

"Come home, Max. I need you," Alex's wife whimpered. "I'm scared and we need you here--you and Liz." Her voice was plaintive as tears slipped down her face. "Please. Max?"

Alex felt betrayed, momentarily, until Isabel wedged herself into the chair beside him, curling herself up against his side. His arm automatically drew her closer, and he kissed the crown of her head. They still depended on Max as leader and brother. And now, they needed to be together again.

Isabel lay on the bed, her face drenched in sweat. "I changed my mind. I don't want a baby anymore."

Alex chuckled. "Its a little late for that, love." He kissed her damp hair. To him, she'd never looked more beautiful.

Liz popped her head up from underneath the sheet. "You're almost fully-dialated, Izzy, you're doing fine." She looked to Dr. Anna Jackson for confirmation. The older woman smiled in agreement.

They opted for a home birth. Max and Dr. Anna's medical supplies lay ready next to the bed on a stainless steel tray. At Isabel and Max's insistence, since Max insisted there were parts of his sister he didn't need to see, Liz would do the actual delivery, since she'd taken a few classes the past few months in midwiving, and Dr. Anna, an old pediatrician friend of Diane Evans, was there as medical support for Max. Anna had been the one to do the primary physical required to adopt Max and Isabel years ago. And while Alex thought she suspected something about the twins, she'd never said anything.

"It's okay, honey. You're doing great." Diane sat on the other side of Isabel, holding her up. His father-in-law and the Guerins had taken the kids to the Crashdown, to keep them out of the way.

Anna looked at him and his wife. "Ready, Izzy hon? It's time to push. Liz?"

Liz took her place at the foot of the bed. Max came to stand beside his mother, taking his sister's left hand in his.

And then came Liz's soft voice, just as Dr. Anna had coached her.

"Push."

And it began. Hour after hour of grueling labor. Until...

"I see something!"

Isabel began to cry in relief.

"Max?" Her brother dropped her hand, running to his wife's side.

"The sac...the baby's still in the sac..."

"Have her push. Then we can..."

"But if we..."

Their voices droned on and on as Isabel enjoyed a brief moment of peace. But then, the pain washed over her again...

"Push, Izzy! Push now!"

And she squeezed with all her might, forcing every bit of pain and frustration into her effort. And she felt something soft slide out--two pushes, and it shot out like a grape.

"The sac! Dammit, Max, cut it open!"

There was a thin membrane covering the bundle in her brother's arms.

"Our baby? Alex?" That familiar panic began to build up in her chest. And her husband turned her face to his, locking her in with his fierce blue gaze.

"She'll be fine, Isabel. I promise."

And the sound of something wet tearing. A slap. And a fierce howl echoed through the room.

And her baby, her tiny, perfect, smooth-skinned baby was placed in her arms. The cries quieted as tiny velvet lips sealed around one nipple, and her daughter opened her eyes for the first time.

Dark alien eyes met hers, and for a moment, the butterfly-fragile hand that opened and closes at her breast glowed.

"Matthew, meet your sister, Anna Elizabeth Whitman."

They all sat crowded in the Guerin family room a few days later. Maria and Michael had invited the Evanses and Whitmans over for dinner to introduce the newest member of the family.

Her son's blue eyes widened, and he reached out a small, careful hand to touch the infant's head at her breast.

"Baby," Matthew whispered.

Anna opened her eyes briefly, and yawned, smacking her lips.

"My baby," Matthew crooned, lightly touching his sister's soft hand.

"I guess that answers the question of jealousy." Alex laughed, sitting beside her gently. She rested her head against his chest.

"Better than Nikki," Michael said with a grin. "When we brought the twins home, she ordered us to take them back." His face wore a content smile, one she never thought she'd see on Michael Guerin's face. "So, how does it feel, Izzy?"

She looked down at her daughter, tracing the already visible line of her father's high cheekbones and slightly-stuck out ears.

"She's perfect. She's..."

"--Completion," Maria and Liz finished together. Maria smiled down at the month old bundle of Mikyelah Marie in her lap, and Liz stroked her daughter's dark head at her knee.

Isabel looked down, from the dark head of her son, to the light head of her daughter. Was this the reason? Were the seven small bodies in the room the reason for three alien children to grow up on this earth?

"Michael, I think this latest painting is your best yet." Her brother stood next to the painting recently hung over the fireplace. Done in oils, it showed a very pregnant Maria cradling Stephen and Leo to her chest. Her swollen bare belly filled most of the painting, but the eye was drawn to the expression on Maria's face, as she tipped her head down to kiss Leo's forehead. And to Stephen's dark eyes as he looked out from the painting, a cheeky grin dimpling his round toddler face.

Michael shook his head. "It's not the painting, Maxwell. My babies...those are my greatest work." And he blushed.

Maria turned to her husband, giving him a familiar smirk. "Getting poetic with age, huh, cheesehead?"

And the sounds of sweet laughter filled the room.

They sat around quietly, basking in family love. Claudia fell asleep, her dark head resting in her mother's lap. Maria eventually got up to put the twins down, and even energetic whirlwind Nikki was looking a little tired.

"My babies." Her mother looked around the room, tears sparkling like tiny diamonds on her cheeks. "My special babies."

"We're all special, aren't we, Gramma Diane?" Nikki's voice was sleepy. "Matthew, cause we chose him, and Daddy because he can see people and places, and Uncle Max because he fixes people, and Auntie Izzy because she can change things."

"And how about you, Nicole? How are you special?" Diane Evans' voice was soft.

"Cause I break things like Daddy did, and the twins do, but I'm getting better."

And Isabel's mother sat quietly for a long time before she spoke. "Michael, Max, and Isabel are special because they fell from the sky to be my babies."

"And was it worth it, Momma?" Her eyes met Diane Evans' blue ones, across a galaxy of love and pain.

"We're family." And her mother smiled. "Family makes al the difference in the world, no matter what the price."

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