Storytime
By Kara (AnyaLindir@aol.com)

Disclaimer: None of these people belong to me. I can only wish they did. They belong to the gods who are Jason Katims, the WB, and Melinda Metz. And if you decide to sue, you can have that really cool cheesy katana that Dad found in the stormdrain. It has a real blade and everything. :)

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Daddy, we have to go now,” the small blond boy insisted. He tugged at his father’s hand. “Storytime is gonna start, and we have to go.”

Kyle Valenti sighed. “Let me shut the car door first, okay, Jamie? Then we can go.”

The little boy danced in the rain, his yellow slicker sparkling in the drizzle and hazy sunshine. “Do you think the storylady will be as good as Mommy is, Daddy?” Jamie’s blue eyes looked up at Kyle seriously. “Will Mommy still be a good storyteller when the baby comes?”

Bethany was in her ninth month of a very long and very hard pregnancy. They both wanted this baby more than anything, but Beth had been sicker than when she was pregnant with Jamie five years before. At least their energetic son was in kindergarten now at Roswell Elementary. And there was something comforting about being home, even for Beth, who’d grown up in California.

“Mommy will always tell good stories, Jamie. And now she’ll have you and the baby to tell them to.” Kyle swung his son up and settled him on one hip. “Now, I’m gonna run really fast so that we get to the door without getting too wet. Are you ready?”

Jamie giggled. “Yeah, daddy!” They dodged cars and the rain, finally reaching the sidewalk in front of the brand new Barnes and Nobles that had just opened up in Roswell. As soon as they got in the foyer, Kyle wrestled Jamie out of his yellow slicker, and the boy was off running towards the giant frogs that guarded the Children’s section. The place was already crowded with parents and kids about Jamie’s ages, all wearing boots and rain gear. Jamie immediately headed for the small Hundred Acre Woods stage to play with some kids Kyle recognized from his kindergarten class. Pulling up the latest Matt Christopher book, he settled at the small table, wondering how he’d ever fitted his knees under one of them.

There was a small commotion at the entrance to the section, and Kyle looked up in time to see two men with strollers come in. Something about the men looked familiar, even though both wore wool hats and coats that bulged strangely in front. The one on the left had a squirmy toddler on an ancient leash-harness in one hand, and the push bar of the stroller in another. A little blond girl stood between the man’s arms, helping him push a second harnessed toddler in the stroller. Both of the little boys were muffled in hats and coats, and wriggled to get out. Kyle couldn’t help laughing. Jamie was enough of a handful.

The guy on the right pushed a much more sedate little boy in his stroller. The toddler just looked around with big blue eyes and didn’t say a word. What was kind of surprising was when both men opened up their jackets to reveal baby slings wrapped across their chests. Kyle snorted, wondering what kind of a man would be caught dead in such a get-up.

And it wasn’t until the man with the four kids pulled off his cap and ran his fingers through his hair that Kyle realized who it was…

“Guerin?”

Michael shot him a suspicious look. “Valenti. What the he--“ The little girl gave him a look of disdain. “Sorry, Munchkin. What are you doing here?” Even though Kyle’s dad was still dating Amy DeLuca, he hadn’t heard too much information about the latest exploits of Team Secretive. Last he heard, Guerin had married Maria DeLuca, which meant…

“All of these are yours and DeLuca’s?” The little blond had ringlets just like Hurricane Maria’d had when they were small. And the little boys had the unmistakable sharp profile of Michael.

“Daddy, can I go play with the other kids?” The little girl tugged at Michael’s hand urgently. “And you need to take off my coat, cause Mama said I’ll get too hot wearing it inside.” Her tiny voice brought Kyle back to preschool, when he’d first laid eyes on Maria DeLuca, right before she’d headbutted him in the stomach.

To Kyle’s surprise, Michael actually knelt in front of the little girl, unbuttoning her coat with practiced ease. “Remember what Mama and I said, Nicole…”

The little girl leaned in until her nose touched her dad’s, her dark eyes serious. “No making things blow up and no hitting, cause that’s not nice,” Nicole finished, looking as angelic as Hurricane DeLuca once had.

Kyle muffled a snort as Nicole ran off, hollering at the top of her lungs, “I see you over there, Sticky-Face!”

“She takes after her mother, huh?”

Michael untangled one of the boys from around his legs, hooking the loop of the leash over the stroller bar. He unbuckled the second boy, prying each wiggly little body out of their coats. “Unfortunately for the rest of the world, yeah.” He set each toddler on the ground, plopping two toy cars in front of them. Then, carefully extracting the baby swaddled in the sling, he looked at Kyle. “What are you doing here?”

Kyle pointed over to the tangle of five-year olds grouped noisily around the stage. “My wife asked me to take our son to storytime.” He couldn’t help flushing with pride. Yeah, there was still a part of him that was bitter over the whole Liz-Max, thing, but he had a beautiful wife and a beautiful son, and nothing could change that. Especially since Kyle was convinced that James Kyle Valenti was the most brilliant child to ever walk the earth. It was in his genes.

The other man dragged a bench over from the other table with his ankle, sitting between Michael and the two strollers. “Amy mentioned you had a wife--she’s the new deputy, isn’t she?” He took off his hat, revealing a head of short, dark hair and a pair of bright blue eyes. He pulled another baby out of his jacket, like a magician would with a rabbit.

“Whitman?” So the computer genius of West Roswell 2002 had spawned as well. Unlike Guerin’s kids, his seemed a lot more subdued and normal.

Alex angled the baby in his arm carefully, and then gave his old double thumbs up, grinning and for a moment still looking like he was eleven. “Is it that shocking that we have kids?”

Kyle thought about that for a moment. “Not you, Whitman. But, Guerin--you were always like this--.”

Michael gave him one of his old smirks. “Anti-socialist hoodlum who wouldn’t amount to anything?”

Which was precisely the answer--not that Kyle would ever admit that. “I still can’t believe that Dad didn’t say anything about kids--“

Again, the trademark smirk. “Your father doesn’t tell you everything, Valenti.” But something had changed in Michael, because he actually got an apologetic look on his face. “Sorry. That was uncalled for.” Fifteen years before, Kyle would’ve punched Michael’s lights out for saying that. Hell, he probably would’ve done that five years ago. But there was a proud light in the spiky-haired man’s dark eyes, and a gentleness about him as he cradled the baby in his arms. “The baby is Molly, and the twins are Stephen and Leo,” he finally said in a reluctant tone. “And you met Nicole…”

Kyle waved his hand at the migrating pack of kids. “Jamie’s in there somewhere…”

Michael cocked an eyebrow. “Jamie? Nik keeps mentioning a Jamie…” Realization dawned on his face as they all heard Nicole Guerin scream at the top of her lungs.

“You give that back, Flamey Lamey-o Jamie!”

And two small children came barreling past on tiny legs. “I saw it first, Nikki-Nikki-Bo-Sicky-Icky!”

“So your daughter was the one who painted my son’s face purple on his first day of kindergarten?” Kyle was surprised that he managed to keep himself so calm. He’d always assumed that the terror of Jamie’s class was a boy, just because it made more sense. But he’d also forgotten who the terror of his kindergarten class had been--even though it was burned into his brain that Maria DeLuca had scratched his neck the first day of kindergarten after he flushed her Care Bear down the toilet. He still had the scars.

“Your son tried to hang my daughter from her coat hook and ripped the only dress she’d actually wear.” But there was something that looked almost like a smile on Michael’s face. “When I pick her up everyday, all she can talk about is Jamie did this, and Jamie did that, and Jamie put paste in her milk at snacktime…”

Kyle stifled a chuckle for his own good. He caught Alex’s eye, and saw the same suppressed mirth. He wondered why Michael didn’t see it. From the way it sounded, his son and Michael’s daughter were headed down a familiar path. They’d either kill each other, or Kyle would end up with a Guerin as an in-law. But the kids were still small. You couldn’t exactly play matchmaker with five year olds who still thought dirt was something that you actually ate…

“So what do you do, Kyle? I thought I heard that you’d been drafted by the Astros or something after we graduated.” Kyle had to hand it to Whitman--the guy was a dork, but he was always decent, even when he’d been dating Liz ages and ages ago. Even after all the times Kyle had beat the crap out of him in grade school.

“I played single-A for a couple season and ripped my shoulder after college. Then I came back to Roswell for a while…” Kyle shrugged, rubbing his shoulder. It still hurt sometimes, after a long shift patrolling. He’d never admit it to his dad though, the Sheriff of Steel. Beth always knew. But she always knew how much it still hurt to talk about it--giving up that dream that he’d had since he was Jamie’s age, and first saw a real major league game. “It was right after Max and Liz got married, I guess.” He still got that sick feeling in the pit of his stomach sometimes, like he was getting shot. That picture of perfect, fairytale love had been burnt into his mind for almost seven years now. It was that image that had driven him to California, to live with his grandparents, to join the police academy out in Los Angeles, where he’d met Beth. “I’m a deputy now. Dad expects me to take over when he retires in a couple years. Beth--my wife, and I met at the academy.”

Alex grinned his old grin that lit up his face like one of those high-watt lightbulbs. “I’m glad to know that another generation of Valentis will be protecting my family.” Kyle was surprised to see the other man’s arms tighten briefly on the sleeping baby in his arms.

“What about you, Whitman? Last I heard, you went to Cal Tech to be a computer geek.”

The lanky dark-haired man shrugged. “Aside from saving the world from intergalactic invaders, I haven’t done too much. Toured with my band for a summer with Maria. I work for a software development company. I’m hoping to take over Microsoft in a few years.” Alex nodded towards the little boy who’d fallen asleep in his stroller, and the baby in his arms. “With the prerequisite 2.5 kids and a dog, of course.”

Before Kyle could ask who Alex married, a small blond whirlwind ran up, tugging on Michael’s arm. “Daddy, I have to go!” Nicole stage-whispered.

Michael sighed, swiftly detaching himself from the babysling. Kyle snorted as the spiky-haired man looked at the two deceptively quiet children on the carpet, absorbed in their wooden cars. “Alex?”

Alex nodded, grinning. “Pass the baby to someone else though. If I move, Anna will wake up, and you know how long it takes to get her to sleep.”

And to Kyle’s surprise, Michael’s pleading eyes turned towards him. “Kyle…”

“Dadd-eee!” Nicole started to do that little wiggling bathroom dance, hopping from foot to foot and squeezing her knees together.

“Hand her over, Guerin. With another on the way, I might as well get back in practice.” And with the only grateful smile Kyle had ever seen on Michael’s face, he found an armful of swaddling and plump baby settled in his arms as Michael hoisted Nicole under his arm and actually ran towards the restroom.

“You look shellshocked, Kyle. Michael as a father shocks you that much?” Alex carefully settled on the floor, wrapping the twins’ leashes around his wrist and settling his daughter back against his chest.

Kyle looked down at the baby in his arms, tracing the already sharp planes visible under her dimpled baby face. Her hair stuck up in the same Guerin pomander that both boys had, and anyone could see the beginnings of Maria’s button nose. “At least she didn’t get Michael’s beak.” Molly Guerin opened her brown eyes and stared solemnly at the man who wasn’t her father. “I always wanted a little girl.”

Alex got a soft smile on his face. “When they put Matthew in my arms, it was the best day of my life. My son. My perfect little boy, with his ten fingers and ten toes and his one--“ Kyle grinned, remembering holding a naked, squalling Jamie for the first time, right before his son had peed all over his hand. “But when Liz handed me Anna…when my daughter was put in my arms…” Alex shook his head, his blue eyes clouded with the memories. “I remember seeing Max with Claudia, and Michael with Nikki and thinking they were under a spell or something. But then I understood.”

“We’re expecting a daughter.” Kyle looked at the baby’s face again, trying to imagine what his little girl would look like. “Beth’s had a hard time of it though. She’s sentenced to bed rest for the last month. But we can’t wait. We’ve already got the nursery set up.” Beth had already scared them with false labor once, and his dad had stopped talking about how much he was looking forward to a granddaughter, but Kyle knew nothing bad would happen to his little girl. His little Michelle. That was the reason they returned to Roswell, to raise their children in the place where Kyle grew up, where there was room for both of them to work in one law department, and still have the support of their family while raising their own.

“Isabel wanted to be a mother so much. We adopted Matthew, and she was the happiest I’d ever seen her. And then she got pregnant with Anna…” Alex carefully reached into his back pocket for the wallet that he still wore on a chain. Flipping carefully through the pictures with his long fingers, he finally shoved the right one across the small table to Kyle. “My wife,” he said with quiet pride.

And for the second greatest shock of Kyle’s life, he saw picture after picture of Isabel Evans in the faded leather wallet. Isabel and Alex on their wedding day. Isabel cradling a squirming baby boy. A very pregnant Isabel and Maria, posing for the camera, serene expressions on their faces.

“So you married a supermodel and saved the world, Whitman? I’m impressed.” So someone had managed to crack the ice bitch exterior of Isabel Evans. She looked happier in the pictures--softer. Like the ice had finally melted.

“She’s in family law now. She works a lot with Child Services and the courts system.” Alex cracked a smile. “Someone had to marry her, and it might as well be me.”

“Who’s the pretty lady, Daddy?” Jamie tucked himself under Kyle’s free arm, peering at the pictures in the wallet. “And whose baby is that? Is it ours? Did Mommy have the baby already?”

Kyle chuckled. Jamie demanded at least once a week to see his baby sister, wanting Bethany to pop her stomach open because he couldn’t wait to play with the new baby. “It’s Nicole’s baby, Jamie. I’m just borrowing her for a while.”

“Eeew, Nikki’s baby? Take her back, Daddy. We don’t need a smelly old Guerin baby at our house.” His son wrinkled up his nose, backing away from the offensive baby. “Why does Nikki get to have more babies at her house than we do? She says its cause her daddy and mommy have lots of sexes. Don’t you and mommy have lots of sexes, Daddy?”

Alex coughed, and Kyle could feel the heat coloring his face. “I don’t think anyone has as much sex as Nikki’s mommy and Daddy, Jamie. But mommy and I have plenty, don’t worry…” He shot a glance at Alex, who was trying not to laugh so hard that he was choking. “Just you wait, Whitman, until yours get old enough to talk.”

“Jamie! Get away from my baby! You’ll contaminate her!” Nicole Guerin came running back into the Children’s Section, her short blond curls streaming behind her. Michael skulked behind her, his hands shoved wrist deep into his pockets.

“Your baby will ‘taminate my daddy first, so there, Nicole Big Hole in Your Head!” And without hesitation, Jamie took off after Nicole again, followed by a terrorized-looking young bookseller with long red pigtails.

“No running in the kids’ section!” the harassed young woman shrieked, nearly running over Michael’s twins on the floor, still playing quietly with their cars. “And stay off that ladder! That’s for frogs only, not little kids!” Book in hand, the bookseller took off in a new direction, towards the frogs that guarded the entrance to the section.

“You couldn’t pay me to work with brats,” Michael remarked, what sounded like awe in his voice as they watched the redhead tear after one child, and then another, snatching books out of their hands.

“Have enough of it at home, Guerin?” Kyle asked, smirking. If the children were anything like their parents, he had the feeling that he’d be paying quite a few visits to the Guerin home in the future. Alex snorted, and Michael shot him one of his usual fierce glares. It was good to know that some things hadn’t changed.

They watched as the bookseller hauled one of the heavy wood chairs on stage, carefully dodging the children that still played up there with what looked like a practiced ease. Prying two picture books out of a toddler’s vice grip, Kyle grinned as he watched the girl playing tug of war for another with a six year old who didn’t want to give up his book. Jamie and Nicole wandered back towards the table, a bit more sedate. Jamie snuggled up at Kyle’s side, and Nicole climbed into her father’s free lap with a practiced air.

“I hope she’s as good a storylady as Mommy is, Daddy,” Jamie whispered. “She yelled at us though cause Nikki was climbing the shelves to get one of the puppets off, and then a bunch of the toys flew of the shelves and Nikki’s hands gloweded, and the storylady yelled and yelled and asked us why me and did Bob hate her that much? Who’s Bob, daddy?”

“Ask Mommy when we get home, Jamie.” For a moment, Kyle pretended that the baby in his lap was his, and that everything was fine in the Valenti house. With one arm around his son, and ignoring how much the wood of the narrow bench hurt his butt, he settled back to listen to the bookseller’s voice. When he got a better look at her, she didn’t look like much more than a child herself.

“My name is Sara, and I’m your storyteller today.” She held up four books. “And for our first Barnes and Noble storytime, I thought I’d share some of my favorites, because there’s nothing better than listening to someone tell a story, right?”

A chorus of small voices answered, “Right!”

As the young girl sat cross-legged in the wooden chair, opening up her first book, Kyle looked back at where the two other men who sat at the table, children gathered around. Michael had Nicole and one twin on his lap, the other standing with two chubby fists gripping the knee of his jeans. Alex’s son had finally woken up and was sitting carefully next to Alex on the other wooden bench, his fat legs sticking straight out in front of him. Dropping a kiss on his son’s head, Kyle thought about how far they’d all come, and how far they had yet to go. Once again, his life had been thrown back into the fray with the six he’d hated and admired so much in high school.

“This book is my favorite in the world. It’s the story of the little boy who acts like a complete and total monster, yet he always comes home, because he knows that’s that where someone loves him.” The girl opened to the first stark white page, where a dark-haired little boy tore about the house in a wolf suit. “The night Max wore his wolf suit and made mischief of one kind… and another…”

Kyle smiled as he leaned back against the table. He had vague memories of this story. Beth didn’t like it too much, and neither did Jamie, but there was something bewitching about the young bookseller’s voice, and the story of a little boy who would always find his way home. Maybe that’s what his life was like, coming back to Roswell. Maybe he’d tame wild things of his own. The future only knew. And oh, the stories he would be telling his grandchildren someday…