Title: Christmas in Roswell
Author: MistressKitty [formerly known as Josephine]

The doorbell rang. Liz opened it to find Sheriff Valenti standing there, next to a huge pagkage wrapped in red and green. He wacked the box several times and grinned looking really silly.
"Hi, uh, Liz, merry Christmas. I, uh, wanted to make up for the, uh, mishaps around here." He indicated the box. "I'd, uh, better go." he thumped the box one last time, and walked away wistling Jingle Bells.
Liz was left mystified, with the box. She tried to drag it inside, but it was too heavy. Feeling really stupid she undid the wrapping paper. She slit the box and opened the top. Something moved in the package. Liz jumped back.
The top opened and someone emerged, only their hair and shirt showing. Slowly, he turned around. It couldn't be, it was, kyle! Liz couldn't hide her smile. Kyle stepped out of the box, and went to kiss her. She kissed him back.
Suddenly, Kule's eyes flew open. He was kissing the wall, in his room. The door opened, and his father came in. "What the hell are you doing in here? I'm trying to sleep!"
Kyle ducked his head, "I guess I had a bad dream."
"Well, while i'm in here, I might as well give you this." Sheriff handed Kyle a small box. "Merry Christmas, Kyle. " Kyle smiled.


Silence
by MistressKitty [formerly Josephine]
Summary: The future can be changed in a single instant. '1947' universe.
Disclaimer: I don't own Richard Dodi or Hal Carver, but I suppose I do own any other characters I make up, along with any aircraft names I use completely without any previous knowledge. Roswell is not mine. Don't sue. The song is "A-320" by Foo Fighters, and it can be found on the Godzilla soundtrack.
Category: Alternate Universe (Summer of '47), no 'ship, drama, Richard Dodi's POV
***
Silence
***
...One day we'll come crashing down
What will I do?
Never had a chance to say good-bye...
-Foo Fighters, "A-320"
***
September, 1946

Carver and I were stationed together again, this time at a small base in Vermont. They had recently released a new -still experimental- aircraft, and out assignment was to take them into the air, and see how good they flew against the low-range gunners that the force already had.

Currently, we were walking from the transport bus to the reporting office to receive more specific orders.

"Been about a year since the end of the war, eh?" Hal commented, while placing his arm mockingly across my shoulders.

"You know nothing about war, Carver." I shoved him away.

Carver had avoided the draft until the end of the war, and then didn't complete the cursory training in time to fight.

"Okay, okay!" He held out his hands and backed away. We walked the rest of the way in silence.

***

"At ease men. Dodi, you, Carver and Benson are in the 22's today. Lenscher, your team is in the old skippers. I want you to take 'em up over the old testing ground and work the 22's defense mechanisms against the skippers. Lenscher, give it to 'em light, we don't want
anyone to get hurt today. Let's hustle boys." Colonel Bates saluted us, and straightened his hat. We returned his salute, and marched to the hanger.

"Hey, Rich, you seen them 22's? They's the sleekest thing I evah seen. Can see yor reflection in the casing, I swear." Benson was the resident newbie, and ever since he arrived, he had shown a dazzled impression about everything that had already become mundane to the
rest of us.

"No, Benny. I haven't had the chance to see them. I'm sure their great."

"Anything's great compared to those nasty skippers. Blast it all; this sun is hot!" Carver stepped between us, and slicked back his hair. "You think Vermont is all pine trees and snow-capped mountains... the force gets all the slum of society."

"I think it's beautiful here." Benson's green eyes sparkled in the glare.

I smiled. Hal was trying to sound tough again. We had arrived at the hanger, so Lenscher unlocked the big steel door which all of us had to push to get open.

"Jiminy Christmas," I whistled low at the sight of those magnificent 22's. Benson hadn't been exaggerating one bit. They gleamed in the cheep lighting and Colonel Bates called out our assigned numbers.

"Dodi's team goes up first, get used to the actual ride. They don't run much different then the skippers. All right, let's go!" Bates slapped his palms together, and we marched to our planes.

I hooked up the ladder, and climbed up, buckling myself in. I put on my headphone set, and heard Hal's voice immediately in my ear.

"This thing's beautiful, Dodi. Bet it flies like a dream."

"Roger that, Carver." I answered back with a smile. The ground boys were waving me forward and out onto the runway, so I started the ignition and gently pushed her forward, careful to stay smooth, cautious and on the ground.

When I was clear for takeoff, my fingers were busy at the switchboard, and then I was up. The agility this plane had was amazing, and it rode completely smooth for all the twists and turns I was giving it.

Colonel Bates came on the headphones. "That's enough playing, Dodi, get to the rendezvous."

"Yes sir, roger that."

***

I had made two laps around the field when everyone else showed up. Two more 22's and four of our old skippers.

"Ready Dodi?" I laughed, Carver had such an edge of excitement in his voice that I couldn't help it. Benny was practically flying in circles he was so glad to finally be included.

"All right men. I'm watching from below," Colonel Bates started to say, but Hal cut in on a private line, "Sounds like the Devil."

"...my count, ready, and go!" Even the Colonel was getting a kick out of this.

But now I had to stay focused on the skippers. All of our guns had been pre-set with the lowest intensity shots so as to inflict as minimal damage as possible.

As we made good run of the field, I prepared to take my first shot. I aimed at the tail of a skipper, had my hand poised on the trigger, but then I was knocked off course by a shot to my underbelly.

Benson was having trouble controlling his plane, and had shot me on accident.

"It's all right, Benny. Focus on righting yourself."

I also saw that Carver was having some troubles himself. His plane was above mine, but plummeting fast.

"Rich! Rich, tell me what to do!" His voice cried over the line as I panicked.

"Stabilize, Hal." I said in the most controlled voice possible.

As Hal neared the ground (There was nothing I could do), I heard a soft chanting over the wire (what could I possibly do?). "Our father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy-"

Then there was the crash, and static filled my ears. And then there was silence.

"We've lost him."
***
The End
***


Title: The Plothole That Ate Roswell
Author: MistressKitty [formerly Josephine]

1973-Roswell University Campus Jeffery Parker came for the aliens, Nancy O'Shea came to paint the desert. She sat on a desolate rock, her still young face glowing with a slight sunburn. Red hair pulled back, curly down her back. Green tee-shirt tucked into cutoff shorts, she looked off in the distance, then focoused on the easel in fornt of her. She dabbed a bit more yellow on, frowned, and replaced it with brown. "Finished." She announced in a satasfied tone, her scottish accent only slightly noticible. Her brow was met with a kiss from her boyfriend. In slacks and a white shirt, his hair slicked back, he looked particularly handsome. God only knew what they saw in each other. "Another beautiful painting by my beautiful girl." Jeffery smiled. Nancy glowed. "You really think so?" "Yes, about the painting and you." "Thank you."

1974-Holy Saints Church Jeffery had graduated a major in bussiness, and Nancy majored in art. It was a simple wedding. They said "I do" with only close family and friends there. They moved into an apartment at the edge of town. Jeff worked at the Roswell alien museum, and Tappy Tacos on the weekends. Nan succesfully sold her paintings, to dealers outside of Roswell. The people there were already sick of the desert.

Parker Apartment One evening, the couple was eating dinner. Jeffery was telling Nan about his manager when a queer look came over her face. "What Nan?" "You said children." "Yes, Martin has three." "Do you want to have children, Jeffery?" Nancy asked, with a blank unrevealing look. "Well, not particularly, at least not right now." "Exactly." They finished the meal in an uncomfortable silence.
1983-Parker Kitchen He turned slowly to face her. "You're WHAT?" "I'm preg-" "Shut up. I heard you the damned first time." Nancy tucked her hair behind her ears, and backed up aganist the cabinet. "Jeffery... you're frightening me." He closed his eyes, completely filled with rage, and other feelings he could not identify. The foreboding plothole grew. December 1983-Parker Residence The air was silent, except for the soft singing of an older, raspier voice. The older woman rocked the baby back and fourth, and laughed when tiny Elizabeth giggled. "That's my Lizzy bear." The proud grandmother coo'ed Liz's parents were both at work, her father starting an idea for a restuarant, and her mother at an art convention in New York. Claudia Parker was virtually the only human contact Liz had had since she was born.

September 1989-W. Roswell Elementary Six-year old Liz Parker stepped off the bus on the first day of kindergarden . She looked down in childlike dismay at the "cupcake dress" she wore. It was horribly poofy, but it was something at least. It was the only real gift she had recieved from her parents, her mother had even made it. When she looked up, a small boy was starring at her from a distance. She tried to smile at him, he looked so solemn. She looked happily at the other girls playing handclaps and hopscotch with their friends. She smiled, and walked into the school. Little did she know, that with each year, the plot hole grew larger.

April 1992 Third grade was going well. Liz's new friend Maria DeLuca was at her table and so was Alex Whitman, and Max Evans (who Liz found out was the quiet boy that first day) who never talked. Mrs. Smith handed out the science worksheets. Liz pulled her brown hair into a ponytail like Maria's, they had dressed alike that day too. "Mrs. Smith?" Her hand wagged in the air. "Yes, Liz? No, we are not going to make something explode today either." Liz's face fell, and the rest of the class laughed. Max gave her a sympathetic look, and she smiled at him. The lab for the day was to make a boat out of tin foil and see how many pennies it could hold before it sunk. Alex immidiately grabbed the foil and folded it into a square with edges and put it in the water basin. "And what if I wanted to do it, Alex?" Maria shook her blond head. "Go ahead, you know I'm right anyway." Maria folded her arms across her chest and 'harumphed.' Liz smiled. Mrs. Smith fell into the plothole when she was supervising recess.

August 1995-Parker Apartment Lix eagerly packed her bag. She and Maria were going to visit Grandma Claudia for a week. A knock came at the door. "That's Maria, I'll get it." No one answered her. "We ready to go?" Maria smiled eagerly. "Almost, lemme get Mom." Liz left Maria in the kitchen and headed to her mother's painting room. "Mom, Maria's here. Let's go." Nancy looked up from her painting. "Go ask your father, I'm too busy with this." Liz sighed and walked across the hall into the office where her father was tightening a tie and already had his business suit on. As Liz left her mother, the ever growing plothole swallowed up the whole painting room, her mother just narrowly escaped. "Dad, Mom's painting, can you please take Maria and I to Grandma Claudia's?"

"Liz, I have to leave for a meeting," he looked at his watch, "right now or I'll be late." "They'll understand won't they?" "No, Liz. None of my acciocates have children. They would think I was shirking my duties on purpose. I could get fired just for taking you to Grandma Claudia's. Liz, I can't do that." Liz's face tightened as she tried not to cry. She ran from the room when she saw the office being overtaked by the plothole. "Come on, Maria, let's go." Maria wordlessly followed, Liz was crying hard now. Liz stopped walking when they got to the alleyway. She leaned against the brick, and slid down so she was sitting with her legs brought up to her chin. Maria did the same, and patted her back. "It will be okay, Liz." Liz sniffed. "No, it won't. Your mom's outta town, and I can't stay here. And the plot hole will swallow us both" "We'll just walk then. It's not that far, is it?" "Grandma Claudia lives in California. And what if the plothole's already gotten her?" "Oh, yeah." Maria's face fell. "Wait, we can break back into my house, and stay there." "By ourselfs, all week?" "Yeah." Maria's eyes lit up, and she bit her lip. "It'll be awesome." "'Kay. Let's go." Liz wiped her eyes, and with a juanty skip, she tripped over the plothole that she lept over in just the nick of time. The two set off across town, and into certian doom.

September 1999-The Crashdown The plothole continued to race across Roswell, following Liz's life story and eating the really outrageous parts, like when Liz realized that her father couldn't have driven her all the way to California... anywho, back to the story. (Or what's left of it.) Maria and Liz were in their uniforms at work, Liz's father had recruited them both when he'd bought the restuarant. "Max Evans is staring at you again..." Maria said. And I think we all know the rest of the story, you know, Liz, Maria, Alex and their Chechleslovakian friends all at one point in the story, couldn't excape the plothole, and they fell in. But, of course this occoured years after their lives were secretly videotaped and shown on public television. Oh, wait... the author felt something pulling at her sleve. She turned around and looked right into the very plot hole she had just been writing about. "No," she screamed. "I am the author, I can make whatever I want happen in this, it's MY story!" "No," the plothole rumbled. "It's my story." It sucked Josephine away into plothole land, and grapped the keyboard to have some fun. All too late, it realized that anything it touched would be sucked into plothole land. The unhappy plot hole lived a tortured life. It could never be truly happy, knowing that it could never touch anything, or anyone again. And, besides, with out aliens, Roswell was getting to be a pretty boring place. That was when the plothole moved to Sunnydale...